Static
by AnaG
Summary: Bella is a determined and bright freshman at Dartmouth's Medical School who doesn't believe in love. When she accepts a new job as an assistant, alongside Edward, will he make her believe? Or confirm her theories? AH, R
1. Stating the facts

In life, most things are just static.

If you think about the amount of time you spend doing the things you actually love, versus all the time you spend just getting through the day, it's quite depressing. Especially if your job isn't something you love. It's similar to listening to a radio that rarely plays the kind of music you like through the static; you can get used to it, but never be truly happy about it.

That's why I decided to focus my life on doing absolutely everything to ensure my future would be filled with good songs, so to speak.

I always knew what I wanted; and I had the thrive and the ability to get it. The silly girls like Jessica Stanley or Lauren Mallory, from High School, thought that the most important thing in life was to be madly in love with a gorgeous guy. But being a child of divorced parents taught me a lot; true love was a fantasy. Someone might argue that my parents simply weren't made for each other, but I knew better. All boyfriends my mother ever had and every single one of the couples I had witnessed had ended the same way: brokenhearted and sorry about the things they threw out the window so they could be together. The alternative wasn't much better: settling for a life with someone, just so they wouldn't be alone.

A medical degree. That was my soul dream; my best friend all throughout High School, Alice Brandon, tried to change my mind, but with no success. I was stubborn.

And ambitious. I was determined to do whatever it took to make my dream come true. The first time I helped my mother with her injuries, I found that my presence soothed people, and that the feeling of helping another human being in a time of pain was my true calling.

And I would get my heart's desire; I simply had to move through some static to get there.

The morning was cold, even though September was just saying goodbye; it was 7 A.M. and I was already on my way out the dorm and to my first class. I had scrapped, sweated and bled my way, but got a full scholarship to Dartmouth's Medical School.

I felt goose bumps rising on my arms; the jacket I had picked out with Alice's help wasn't warm enough. I thought, with a hint of jealousy, of how she stayed in the comfortable dorm room. I eyed my reflection in one of the glass doors of the building, briefly. I wasn't much to look at; pale complexion, long wavy hair in the same brown as my eyes, short and svelte. It didn't matter to me.

There weren't many students yet; I made sure to make my way there early, so I could take my time finding my class, instead of being the obvious damsel in distress of a freshman and ask the first senior I saw. I wasn't interested in making friends; that was just another form of static. Alice had been the exception; she understood me well and made her way into my heart, in a respectful but disagreeing way. She believed in love and that I was missing out on something. I just hoped she wouldn't get severely hurt before she came to agree with me. Surely college would occupy all my time. As the corridors filled up, I finally found the right class – with not a lot of time to spare – and went in.

To my surprise, it was completely empty, with the exception of one boy on the front row. He looked my age, although that was the extent of our similarity. Even sitting down, I could tell he was tall; the rising sun shining through the windows made his disheveled reddish brown hair glow slightly, and accentuated his perfect Greek –like profile. The longs sleeves of his blue shirt were gently rolled up, showing his defined forearm.

I stopped myself from gawking; releasing a breath I didn't know I was holding, I went to sit down, a few chairs away from him. I scolded myself for being so affected by his presence, even if he was abnormally beautiful. Surely he was used to that kind of reaction by now.

I had the strangest urge to look at him some more, to take notice on all the details so I could store them in my memory. I struggled against it, the worse part of me winning; I stole one more look at him through the curtain of my hair. He hadn't move, probably not even noticing my silent entry, as he was reading a book.

I was released of my trance by the sound of heavy footsteps; a middle-aged man entered the room, setting his briefcase and books without as much as a glance our way. He seemed surprised to see anyone there, when he finally took notice of the two of us.

"Good morning. I'm Mr. Gaspard, your Anatomy I teacher."

"Good morning", both I and the boy answered, although my voice sounded more like a squeak when compared to his velvet tone.

"I'm sorry… but I wasn't expecting any students today… You see, it's just the first class, and I understand there's a lot of hazing to be done, even for the brave souls who are awake after the parties".

His tone was relaxed and I found myself laughing. Partying and taking part in hazing were two aspects of the college experience I wouldn't be sad to miss on.

"As long as you're here… Why don't you introduce yourselves?" Mr. Gaspard asked, leaning against the desk and signaling me.

"I'm Bella Swan, from Forks, Washington", I managed out, turning then to see the boy's presentation. I was curious, even though I couldn't come up with a logical reason for that. He was looking at me, in all his glory, with the most beautiful pair of green eyes I had ever seen.

"Edward Cullen, from Chicago", he answered the teacher, after holding my gaze for a moment.

Great. Now he probably thought I was some small town girl. Not that there was anything wrong with that; not that his opinion mattered in any way.

"Well, I was considering taking up one or two assistants to aid me; it doesn't pay anything, and it would mean extra work, but you'd have access to a lot of material before anyone else and the credits are always nice. It occurred to me, since you two seem to be dedicated students, you might want to consider it. Let me know."

After this, the teacher was already turning to leave; I wasn't having that.

"I would love to", I heard myself say, thrilled with the opportunity.

"Me too", I heard. What? Looking to my left, I saw Edward smiling slightly, apparently as happy as I was with the prospect of extra work.

"Well, you are indeed dedicated", Mr. Gaspard laughed. "Alright then. See you in my office, Wednesday at 8 A.M. sharp."

I saw the teacher leave, and bent down to pick up my messenger bag, sensing Edward leaving the room. I was anxious and ecstatic, which made my head spin. The worst part was the discomfort; the gut-wrenching feeling that came with the knowledge that I wasn't this ecstatic about the assistant position as much as I was with the fact that Edward would be doing it with me.

Still sitting, I clamped my eyes shut. Damn it. A migraine made its presence known, as due to the sudden increase of static.


	2. Sticking to plan

**Author's note: **

**Thank you for the reviews and to all the subscribers!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my imagination.**

Alice was passing in front of her wardrobe, trying to decide what to wear; I didn't understand her predicament, not really. She was short, but had a nice body and a beautiful face framed by her spiky pitch black hair. She could pull-off anything, but I guess majoring in Design made you picky.

"Are you sure you don't want to come?" she asked for the fourth time.

Having the biochemistry book open in front of me, I nodded, not even averting my eyes. I wanted to make sure I didn't fall behind on anything. I noticed her sighing and felt the need to elaborate.

"Tomorrow I'll have to show up early for my assistant's reunion with the Anatomy teacher".

"I don't understand how you can be so cheerful about it. Honestly Bella? Being made a slave is your idea of a good time?" she groaned.

"It's not really a good time, but it is a good opportunity", I answered, trying to defend myself. "And if you laid eyes on the boy who I'll be doing it with, you might kill me in an attempt to take my place", I added, teasing her and laughing as I saw her jaw drop open.

"I think – no, wait, I'm certain – you never talked about a guy like that before. He must be something. So, are we ready to throw our static theory out the window?"

She looked positively radiant at the possibility. But I just had to burst her bubble.

"Not a chance. The theory stays firm in place. He is good looking, but probably a jerk. Those tend to go hand in hand. And I can't afford any distractions, even if I had a chance with him"

Brilliant. I managed to make myself depressed. But I didn't have time for that. I moved from the desk to my bed, lying on my stomach; I needed to stretch my back and legs after a hole day sitting in class.

"Oh, Bella, come on! What will it take for you to get out of your shell? There's more to life than work and study. There's falling in love" – she opened her arms then, to illustrate the magnificence of the concept – "And the first time you hold hands, the first kiss, the pleasure you take in each other's company…"

"And the phone calls unanswered, and the days spent crying, and the opportunities wasted. Oh yes, Alice, I'm more then aware. I don't want to go there; for me, the nice part can't possibly compensate all the damage"

I was getting annoyed at the recurrence of these conversations. And, knowing Alice, she was just waiting for a way to get me out of our room and into some dingy frat house reeking of liquor.

"I don't like it when you talk like that… Yes, it's true, sometimes it does go like that, but you have to believe there's something true out there. That the attempts are worth it when you finally find him, maybe you just need to have hope…" she trailed off, waiting for my answer.

I was tired. I needed rest. I wasn't going to revisit this subject, and I most certainly did not wanted to have hope about love.

"God, you sound just like Jessica or Lauren. Look, if you want to go to the party, then fine, but I can't go. I need to study"

When I looked back at her, she had her lips pursed and her shoulders were tense. I had just snapped at her, didn't I?

"Alice… I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. It's just…"

"No, it's ok", she conceded, coming to sit in the bed beside me, "I understand, shouldn't have insisted like that. You know I just want to see you happy. And if you're happy around books and slaving yourself, that's fine. Just don't be upset at me for trying; it's my job, you know. As a best friend"

I smiled at her, and got up to help her find her shoes and give her a quick hug before she got out. I worried about her too; mainly her safety. That was the only reason I felt guilty not going with her, but I knew she could defend herself. The discomfort was so strong and I yawned so frequently I just gave up on biochemistry for the day and lied down. Drunken with sleep, I set the alarm clock and settled into my cushy bed, dosing off immediately, as if under a spell.

The next morning, I got ready hurriedly; made sure Alice was fine and tucked in before leaving, double-checking in the mirror. On the way to Mr. Gaspard's office, I couldn't help but think about meeting Edward for the second time. Well, not exactly – I'd seen him in a couple of classes, sneaking looks at him – but still, this time we would probably talk.

I tried to concentrate, and just as I made it around the corner I saw him – leaning against the office doorframe with ease. His eyes instantly met mine. He was dressed in the same way as always; the button down shirt and jeans. Maybe that was his version of the "college uniform". Mine was jeans and a hoodie. It was comfy and easy to put together; the way it aggravated Alice was just a bonus. It was just indecent how he could look so fresh and put together when I probably looked like I just crawled out of bed.

"Hey, Bella", he greeted, a small but genuine smile on his lips.

"Hello", I answered. I felt nervous; he was too perfect-looking. The fact he remembered my name didn't escape me.

The teacher came in, in the same heavy step strut as the other day. After greeting us, he opened the door and called us in. I walked in first, and we took the seats in front of the desk. It was a nice but cluttered office; I noticed there weren't any jars with organs floating anywhere, and mentally laughed at myself for having that idea.

The proximity to Edward was making me uncomfortable, and I made my best to sit up straight and not fiddle with my hands. Putting up my poker face, I listened as the teacher explained exactly what we would be doing.

In a nutshell, we'd be doing his work for him. He would give us hundreds of pages to scan through, and squeeze the juice out of. We were also in charge of getting the PowerPoint presentations done for each class. I was almost expecting him to say we'd be grading papers as well. I took a peek at Edward's expression and he seemed to be thinking the same.

"You will have a special pass that allows you to spend as much time as you can in the library's computers, and take any book for an extended period"

Now, that part I was actually going to enjoy. When he handed the impressive stack of notes, my hand and Edward's reached for it at the same time, and I held back a gasp. The touch against his soft skin, slightly colder than mine, was wonderful. We exchanged a look, and I ended up letting him have them. For now.

"Well, I'll leave you to it. And don't think this means you can skip classes and use being an assistant as an excuse. You do this on your own time", he added.

Both I and Edward nodded in understanding, and Mr. Gaspard left.

"Slave-driver", I heard Edward mutter as the door closed, and I couldn't help but chuckle. He then turned fully to me, with a bigger smile in place: "So, I guess we have to get organized. You want to do it by class themes? I could take the first couple", he offered, kindly.

"That wouldn't be fair. You'd end up having a hellish week. Maybe we should do it together, that way we'd get it done quicker"

I mentally kicked myself. Had I just suggested being locked somewhere with this boy? My skin was crawling and I felt hot; his gaze locked on mine seemed to turn up my inner thermostat, my teenage hormones come to life.

"I think you're right", he answered, making me both relieved and even more nervous. "Want to gather in the library to do this after dinner? Say, about seven thirty?"

"Perfect", I answered, and couldn't help but smile back at him. I could tell he had an easy going personality.

We walked to our respective classes, saying our goodbyes. As the teacher took up the subject from last class, my mind wandered; I was already letting myself slip. I was imagining what I would wear, what we would discuss, whether he favored the same medical fields as me. I was allowing myself to hope. And that could only lead to disaster.

So I urged myself to focus; after all, this was sure to be heartbreak on the making. He was bound to be in a relationship, and even if he wasn't, I wouldn't be the kind of girly girl he'd probably go for.

And even if all those things weren't true, medical school was a tough, competitive field. I could never afford any distractions. Nothing had changed.

Then why the hell did I feel so different? Why did I felt like a girl, all of a sudden?


	3. Loosing it

**Author's note: **

**Unfortunately I never had the pleasure of actually going to Dartmouth, and I don't know the area – so I will be taking creative liberties on that one. Hope you enjoy the new chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own imagination.**

I only had two hours to myself, and decided to just relax, listen to some music and keep my eyes shut. I spent the holidays doing some catching up on reading – for pleasure, which I hadn't done in a long time. But right now, my mind was the furthest away from wanting to read possible.

I felt like my life consisted of staring and decoding the meaning in pages after pages. Knowledge. Things others had experienced and came up with, that I would use in my future profession.

It seemed to pile on and on and on. I was getting frustrated with how passive it was; seating in a chair, drinking in the teachings of others. But the real thrill was thinking about next semester – when I'd be gathering my own experiences. The first internship was mostly observational, but I was sure I'd be able to convince my tutor to get my hands dirty. I worried about finding a good tutor – it could determine my future. As a student, you're most influenced by those closer to you, and choosing a specialty was something I was looking forward too, but also dreading. Right now, every single door was open to me – and going through one meant shutting the rest.

Just as sleep seemed to reach me, ridding me of my worries – the alarm I'd set on my cell phone went off. I groaned, getting up and dressing a warm teal sweater and a long coat. It was cold and there was no telling what time I'd be back.

Alice was, once more, nowhere to be seen. I checked her schedule – but her classes had ended hours ago. Worried, I sent her a message, wishing she'd at least taken her cell.

Going to the library, I marveled yet again at its lines. Ancient combined with modern in perfect harmony – it truly was my picture perfect of a sanctuary. Although every desk had its own desktop computer with a large LCD screen, the chairs were comfortable leather. Even the bookcases were beautiful in their own way.

The only lights in the room came from the green faculty-like lamps in the desks; at the very center of the huge room, there was Edward. I wasn't sure if there was anyone else there – not that I could see or notice. He just took up so much of my attention, as if I was lured to him. I reveled in the feeling of having my footsteps muffled by the thick carpet and walked towards him as I took him in. The clothes were the same as this morning, but he looked infinitely more tired; his hair was jutting out in all directions, and I could see the light shadows under his eyes. He was pinching his nose, staring at a page I knew he was reading from his eye movement.

I found it endearing; it could have been me in his place. I also took notice that, even though I showed up early, he was already there. Another testament to his dedication.

Careful not to disturb him, I dropped my bag on the cushy floor and pulled the chair in front of him.

"Good evening, Edward. You seem tired", I observed.

"Oh, hello", he seemed surprised, looking up with cloudy green eyes. "I didn't even see you. Yeah… I've been doing some preparation, and I had a paper to start on, it was just a long day", he stated, smiling then. Even tired, even with his hair all wiry and his shirt all wrinkled, he was still the most gorgeous and entrancing man I had ever seen.

"You think we should postpone? Are you feeling well?" I wasn't faking my worry; up close, those shadows under his eyes were concerning me.

"No, not for me, we should do this." He insisted, stoically.

We launched ourselves to it, realizing that pile of information was just referring to the first five classes. My stomach was clenching – I hadn't had anything to eat since lunchtime – but I managed to get myself to concentrate thinking about the amazing Chinese takeout place I'd discovered with Alice the day we'd move in.

I checked the cell phone from time to time, wishing she'd answer. But no luck. Edward must have noticed, because he paused our ongoing discussion about the material to ask:

"Is everything ok? Am I keeping you from your boyfriend or something?"

His voice was even, and he was smiling, but I thought I detected an edge – a curiosity that went beyond the worry or the joking.

"No, it's just roommate, she should have checked-in by now… But maybe I'm just being paranoid".

_Touché_. If he wasn't showing interest, I wasn't giving interesting information. I could have started with «No, I don't even have a boyfriend», but that would have been suggestive. And this way, I got him more curious.

Well, how about that? Did this just come with being human? Knowing how to play these games, instinctually? I'd never done this before – but somehow it came to me. I couldn't exactly pinpoint – or admit to – the reason I wanted Edward to be curious, but I just went with it. It was 10 p.m. and I was tired. Flirting felt nice.

And I was impressed. I had to admit it to Edward – he had ability and smarts to him. As we finally ended this week's project – with the PowerPoint – I could feel my lower back ache and my neck muscles strained. It was a good thing being an M. D. would pay so well, because I'd be spending some years in a masseuse, undoing the damage.

When I told him that, he only chuckled.

"Oh, it gets worse. Sometimes, when my dad comes home, he's all twisted up from being hours on his feet, in surgery. College is training in more ways than one, I guess"

"So your dad is a surgeon? What kind?" I asked, in awe; he had always given out the image of a well-educated boy, but I could see it clearly now.

"Cardio-thoracic", he stated, sounding put-out, all of a sudden. I realized the subject was one he didn't feel like pursuing, and focused back to the computer. "How about your parents, what do they do?" he followed, catching me off-guard.

"Well, Renee is an agent; she deals with baseball players and such. And my dad is a police officer, in the tiny rainy town of Forks", I stated, noticing how boring it was, even to me.

I didn't have a problem with either my parents' choice of profession, but somehow I always thought they played it safe. Charlie was an amazing man, in his own way, and he'd been by me when I needed him the most. He was the one who saved up enough money for a college fund – much unlike Renee. But somehow, I could only imagine what my life would be like, having a doc for a father. The inspirational source that would be.

"They seem like two very different people, they must have made a lot of compromises"

That insightful comment threw me off; I wasn't expecting him to be interested; but there was no doubt in my mind he was, just by looking in his eyes.

"Well, that's probably why they didn't make it. The marriage itself was short. I was just three months old when my mum took me to Phoenix; I don't even remember them being together"

The look he gave me was sympathetic, but I shrugged it, smiling. It really wasn't important. Having to come to terms with your parent's divorce was much easier when you knew no other reality; I didn't miss anything.

"So you haven't always lived in Forks?"

"I only went back to live with my dad when high school started. I missed Charlie, and I needed a change…"

I was lying. Painfully so. Phoenix was my home and I missed it for a long time before adapting to Forks. He seemed to pick up on that – with a small twitch of his mouth and a different expression on his eyes, he looked away to the computer screen.

"How about you?" I felt like I had been practically babbling; if I'd given him this much information, it would be normal to want some in return.

"I've always been in Chicago, with my parents", he stated, shooting me a glance. "I admire you for having the courage to just leave like that and start your life all over"

I had to laugh at that. For weeks, I didn't have a straight night's sleep; my body took its time to adjust to the temperature and the humidity, so I was constantly down with something. The small town life itself never pleased me; I knew I wouldn't be getting back once I was finished with college.

"I only survived because of Alice", I stated, mostly to myself. "She's my best friend. She's the friend I told you about, my roommate, even though I haven't seen much of her lately. She's a bit of a party person"

He smiled kindly at me, and something – maybe a light flush? – appeared on his skin. Looking to the computer screen, I saw he'd finished the last frame. We were done for this week.

The work atmosphere, which prevailed even while talking about ourselves, vanished into thin air. We were both smart, collected and professional during that time; now, I wasn't entirely sure.

Realizing that I should be packing, I started to do so. Once again, we both reached for the stack of notes, but I wouldn't let him have it this time. I was already planning on showing up next week with some work done. But wouldn't that limit my time with him? But why would I want to extend it? The way the low light from the desk lamp hit his jaw and lit his eyes, my thoughts were lost. I did want to extend it.

So much for smart.

He leaned back on his chair, raising his arms up to stretch, his neck exposed. I bit my lip, trying my best to remain unphased, but with no success. All I could think of was running my lips through that skin…

Certainly, I wasn't collected anymore.

"I better go back to the dorm" he said, grabbing his bag but staying seated. "I've still got to find somewhere to eat this time of the night. You want to join me?"

"Actually I was going to order from a place me and Alice found. You like Chinese food?"

As he nodded, that sexy smile on his face, I picked up my cell phone to make the call. Yep. There goes professional.


	4. Safe or Not

**Author's note: **

**The amount of hits warms my heart; thank you to all who read it. Introducing a new character in the story this chapter… I wonder who that would be!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own imagination.**

Somewhere along the effort my mind was making to justify my actions, I forgot the very practical, very immediate matter of location. The man on the other end of the call wanted to know where to deliver the food.

My mind raced. Should I say my room? His room? Both options sounded way too forward. And I wasn't coming up with anything else.

"The entrance to Dartmouth's library", I finally said.

I saw one of Edward's brows shoot up. As I hung up, he started laughing.

"We've been authorized to stay in the library longer, but I doubt they would appreciate us spilling Kung Pao chicken somewhere"

I had to laugh along; why not tell him the truth?

"I didn't know what to give as an address. We can just pick up the bags and eat wherever we want."

I was giving him a way out. If he didn't feel like staying with me, he could go.

"The campus is deserted, and it's a nice dry night. We could eat just out the front"

_We_. A part of me breathed a silent sigh of relief, when another screamed I should be the one getting the bag and walking away. I ignored the later.

"I hope this isn't your definition of taking a girl out to dinner", I teased, getting into my coat to go out and wait for the delivery.

He chuckled, but then his tone grew serious:

"Would you have gone with me, if I asked?"

Did he have to do this to me? I was trying to keep him at a safe distance, but his intense gaze didn't help. I tried to reason with myself. He was a friend. A friend and colleague I'd be spending some time working with – at least a semester.

"Probably, I would."

That sounded simple enough. Neither dismissive nor eager.

Out the door, I realized the weather was nice, and it was almost as warm as inside the library. The full moon and green lamps spread through campus provided the lighting, and the marble steps were wide and clean, a nice place to sit on.

"You were right. It's a nice night to be out."

Sitting down, we went back to safe subjects, such as the classes we were taking, the teachers and the fields we were more interested in. He favored Psychiatry, while I admitted having a soft spot for surgery.

He didn't mention his father once.

The food arrived, and we dug in. I watched him dip the small pieces of meat into a sauce and carefully wrapping them in noodles before eating.

"I see you like working for your food", I stated, impressed by his hand skills.

Scooting a bit closer to me, he repeated the process and brought the little roll up to my mouth, smiling.

"Try it"

The voice was silk, and his smell… Not his perfume, but _him_, was incredible. The epitome of what a man should smell like. The warm look in his eyes made me shiver.

I took the food, chewing carefully and enjoying the flavors. It was very good – I'd have to remember the name.

Giving him my approval, I offered my Chop Suey container for him to have a taste – not feeling quite daring enough to feed him to his mouth. It was just an intimate gesture.

Watching him eat made me forget even how hungry I was. He was neat and his movements firm; the way his red full lips parted, the way his Adam's apple bobbed up and down with swallowing…

The man made eating sexy. Extremely so.

_Eyes on the Moo Shu, Bella._

When we finished, it was well after midnight. Being around him wasn't hard or awkward, on the contrary. Just… tempting. And that could lead to so many different kinds of wrong.

We said our goodnights, and I snuggled closer to my jacket, rooted to the ground against my better judgment. We were standing, and I should just leave. I didn't.

"Sleep well, you need the rest"

After telling me this, he lowered his head slowly, angling it so I could see what was coming – and planted a sweet kiss on my cheek.

"You too", I whispered before turning away to go to my dorm, urging myself not to turn back to see if he was still watching.

I kept thinking about that little moment longer than I should. Alice wasn't there, and I was disappointed – I felt like telling her about the night I just had. But she'd probably get her hopes up about a future I knew I wouldn't be having with him.

Thursday and Friday were long days; my schedule was heavy. I did get to meet him once, and we talked a bit before going to class. But business was business; I urged myself to stay focused, even with him sitting in a chair right next to me. My efforts in blocking him out were relatively successful. Or maybe lying to myself was easier than admitting the contrary.

The sun was setting when I finally reached my dorm, and I could feel the air vibrating with the approaching weekend's excitement. All I wanted was a warm shower and sleep. I'd have time to catch up later.

I let out a shriek of horror when I opened the door. I could swear every piece of clothing Alice and me owned was thrown somewhere in the mess. The notes I'd left, organized, on top of the desk were on the floor, scattered. The first thing that went through my mind was that we'd been robbed. I went over to the bathroom's door and listened the water running.

"Alice? Are you there?" I yelled, frantic.

"I'll be out in a minute!" she answered back. Immediately I felt calmer; if anything had happened, she wouldn't be taking a shower.

When she got out of the bathroom, already dressed for sleep, I noticed she looked tired and worn out. Her hair and skin didn't have her glow, and she wasn't bouncing around the way I was used to.

"You know who did this?" I asked her, obviously meaning the clothes.

"Sorry, I was just trying to find something to wear tomorrow."

I was stunned.

"Have you considered doing the laundry as a possibility? That would actually help… instead of this mess", I snapped, the lack of sleep and long day's work weighing on me.

"I didn't have the time", Alice answered in a cold tone, throwing more clothes on to the floor as she drew the covers open to get into bed. I checked her schedule.

"You didn't have the time? Alice, you had three classes today. I had six. And besides that, how come my things ended up on the floors as well?"

"I told you, I was looking for something to wear"

Her strange calm and cold tone was getting on my nerves, but I bit my tongue and tried to control my temper.

"I think it's only fair you clean this up. I really just want to get some rest"

"Have you any idea how many hours of sleep I had last night, Bella? Two. And it's been like that all week. I don't have the strength for that right now; just leave it there; I'll take care of it when I wake up", she said, obviously not wanting to pursue a conversation. As if I'd ever let her off the hook that easily.

"I don't think I'll even be able to sleep like this, and I'm not spending the weekend cleaning up after you"

"You really are the queen of control. If anything steps out of your perfect little world, you freak out. I said I'd take care of it", and with that she went to bed, her back facing me. That broke down the control I was trying to muster.

"Alice, you've been out every night since Tuesday. I don't even know where you've been; I don't even hear you coming back. So don't expect me to trust you to do the responsible thing when I come home and see everything looking like this!"

"Fine!" she yelled back, jumping out of bed, "I'll go do the damn laundry, as long as it gets you to shut up!"

And with that, she started to dress herself.

"It's not just the laundry, Alice; you need to slow down… Look at yourself, you need rest"

"I'll be the judge of that", she muttered. "Just because you don't intend to enjoy college, doesn't mean I can't. I'm seriously regretting all the time I wasted in high school, just focusing on grades. I should have realized it sooner."

It hurt to hear her; the years we'd spent together were the happiest of my life. Just the thought of her regretting them tore me apart. And I was also scared – because I could see the effects this was having on her and I knew she wasn't done.

I would try to talk to her later; right now we were both on edge. I wasn't entirely sure how safe it was for her, or who she'd been going out with, but I knew it would never be me. I didn't support this. Eventually, it would take its tow on her grades and her health. I could only hope it wouldn't come to that.

While I stood there, suddenly sad, she'd been sorting through the clothes, dividing them into piles. I knew I'd end up saying something if I stayed, and it wasn't the time, so I just went out to dinner.

On the cafeteria, all I could think about was Alice and the fight. This wasn't us. We had never spoken to each other this way. Were four days truly enough to change this much about a friendship? I wondered what – or who – drove her to act this way. And I wondered if this had been building, and I just didn't notice.

I sat alone at a table, and started to eat, absentminded. I broke out of my reverie when I saw someone familiar facing me; one of the students from my Psychology class.

"Mind if I sit with you?" he asked, his southern roots showing in his words.

"Sure, Jasper", I was glad as his name came to me; it was unusual, and therefore easy to remember.

We talked a bit about class, the papers due and his English major. But I was having a hard time putting up a straight face.

"You don't seem alright. What is it?"

I smiled at him and his perceptiveness. He had a calm about him that I envied. I saw him brush the blonde curls from his eyes, noticing his good looks and how nice he was being. I needed some support, something to hold on to.

"My best friend is… acting out, in a way. I'm worried about her. About what she can do to herself, to her future..."

He was, by definition, a quiet person; that much I could tell about him. He only asked questions here and there, and when I finished he furrowed his eyebrows, looking down at his plate of food.

"Honestly, I think you're right. Talking to her today won't do much good. If she's stubborn about it, maybe you need to give her some space to see it for herself."

"She can get hurt in that process", I croaked, my throat tight.

"I know. But some people won't learn until they see it for themselves."

I sighed. That was Alice. I remembered telling her to be careful with her shopping sprees, not to max out her credit card, but she ended up doing so anyway, much to her parents' horror. When she got her car, she kept receiving warnings until my dad had to write her a speeding ticket. But this time? You couldn't talk or buy your way out of this.

"I'll give you my number. If you need help with anything – Alice related or not – just call. Ok?"

I thanked Jasper, relieved that there was someone else on this campus I could talk to. Twenty-four hours ago, I'd been working with Edward, and I was still amazed at how quickly my world could shift.

Rubbing my temples, I willed the headache away. Static was all I could hear.


	5. Water Works

**Author's note:**

**Thank you all for the wonderful response to this story. Hopefully you'll like this chapter; it flowed out of me in such an easy way it was scary.**

**Disclaimer: Once again, own nothing but my own imagination.**

Saturday morning I woke up early – earlier than any human should, according to Alice – and got ready for my weekly routine. Her definition of a Saturday well spent involved sleeping in, late morning brunch and shopping. To accommodate both of us, I usually went out first, and then we'd have our girl's day out.

Looking at sweet Alice in her bed, sleeping away soundly in her pink sheets, I couldn't help but believe I had overreacted. After all, she had put up with my quirks for three years; having a mess to come home to was nothing compared to some of the things she'd done for me.

All-glorious Saturday. I packed my gym bag and suited up, throwing on my favorite track suit, before bouncing out the door, a spring in my step.

The second I knew Dartmouth had its own indoor swimming complex, I was thrilled; this was my only addiction – well, coffee didn't count.

As I took in the green and gold colors of the trees surrounding the gravel path, I thought of Renee. Her constant changes of heart and pursuit of something new had taken her to enroll us both in swimming lessons, when I was about six years old, supposedly to bring us closer. She gave up after a few weeks – which actually said a lot about our relationship – but I never did.

I was good enough to get called to compete, but never wanted to. I was competitive enough in school; swimming wasn't about that.

After a short stop in the office, I had everything I needed. The locker room was very clean, and seeing I was alone I practically jumped out of my clothes, adjusted the cap and showered.

The complex itself was a tall rigid structure in white, giving a feel of airiness. The pool itself was perfect: Olympic-style, well kept and empty. Mine.

I could feel my heart and breathing slow as I eased into the cool water; it was bliss. I was enveloped in it – and felt soaked, as if it was possible for it to seep into my bones.

Soon enough, I'd established a good rhythm, alternating styles. All my worries were washed away; all the noise in my life, in my very soul, gone. I was surprised, length after length, not to find the water the least bit darker, as it absorbed the weight I'd been carrying.

It was a mind-freeing experience for me; I felt graceful, untouchable.

No one cared how I looked, and I felt beautiful.

No one cared how smart I was. It didn't matter.

There were no obligations in the world. The now, the great song playing in my mind, was the only thing that mattered. There was no taste, no smell. My hearing was useless and the eyesight reduced to a minimum needed for guidance. Deeper than sleep.

My lungs burned, for as the gushes of air were never quite sufficient; my muscles stretched and flexed. The movements themselves were perfection; this was my second nature.

Not being sure how long it had been, I felt my body begging me for rest. Out of the pool, I released my hair from the blue cap and went to pick up my towel. That's when I saw him. I suppose it was his turn to sneak up on me, after all.

His body glistened from the shower he'd probably just taken. I followed the drops of water in his chest, all the way over his sculpted abdomen, disappearing into the grey shorts sitting low on his hips.

In my defense, I might have gawked, but just for a second. I smiled at him, just because it was the natural thing to do in his presence.

"Good morning", he greeted, his silken voice teasing.

"Good morning, Edward", I greeted back, my voice lower than usual and a bit breathy. He shifted on his feet.

"Nice seeing you here; I didn't know you swam… you do it often?" The fact that he was actually making conversation was surprising; I'd expect him to just move past me into the pool.

"Saturdays only, unfortunately", I clarified, the disappointment showing itself. "I'd love to do it more often, though. And you?"

I shivered slightly, and went to the forgotten towel, starting to dry my hair. His eyes followed me.

"I started because I needed some exercise, but it grew on me. Are you any good?"

That got me smiling wider.

"You tell me"

He shifted again, first with a «_Oh, I got caught_» expression, but then relaxed, seeing I wasn't upset about it. I just knew he'd been watching me – maybe even for a while – but couldn't bring myself to be upset about it.

"Well, my turn to go in." He actually sounded sad. "See you Monday, right?"

"See you", I confirmed, walking past him towards the showers.

In the back of my mind, I knew it should have been awkward; he'd seen me dripping wet, bathing suit clinging to every inch of me that wasn't already on display, hair all tousled…

But it wasn't. I was glad. It was worth it just to take that good look at him; knowing I'd got him embarrassed was a bonus. I'd talked to him in my best possible moment, just after rising from the water, feeling like a Goddess.

As I took one good look at myself in the locker room's mirror, I decided it was time for some pampering to take place. I got back to the room, hoping Alice was awake. She hadn't even moved since I left, and it was now 10 a.m. – the latest I'd ever seen her sleep.

"Alice, girl, wake up. It's late. I've gone back from swimming." She groaned in response. "I know last night didn't go so well, all the more reason for us to go out and talk. Come on… I need a haircut and a spa day, what do you say? After brunch?"

I wanted my best friend back. I was ready to apologize for snapping at her, and share my worries. She'd understand, eventually, and maybe even cut back on the partying. I knew I wasn't playing fair – throwing at her an offer she couldn't refuse. Not the Alice I knew.

This one, however, tossed and turned a bit while I spoke, mumbled something incoherent and fell asleep again. I couldn't believe it.

"Hey, come on…", I started once more, with what I thought to be a soothing voice.

"Oh my God!", she yelled, suddenly sitting up. "You can't take a hint can you? I don't want to go, I don't feel like it! Since you haven't had any interest in hanging out with me since we got here, why don't you at least respect my sleep?"

She could have slapped me and I'd be less surprised. And less angry.

"Right, because spending the night drinking until you fall down and being escorted to your room by some random pervert every night is lots of fun", I snapped back, my calm demeanor making it all the more cold.

I hadn't seen it for myself; I was a heavy sleeper and getting adjusted to a heavier schedule worn me out more than the usual. The two girls in the room opposite from us, however, approached me on Thursday to say how sorry they were I'd end up with that kind of roommate. At the time, I'd thought nothing of it – shrugging it off as gossip – but now I wasn't sure. Her reaction would tell me a lot.

With her hair crushed from sleep and dark reddish circles under her eyes, she suddenly seemed small and ashamed. But the glint of pride was still there. I knew that if I tried to reason with her she'd just get defensive. She didn't answer, probably still finding the words.

"I'll go. You can come meet me when, and if, you feel like it. A shower would make you feel better", I stated, putting the matter to rest. For now.

As she entered the bathroom, I opened the window for fresh air and left her an Advil on her nightstand.

My best friend wouldn't let me out the door, saying she'd need five minutes and taking the best part of an hour to get ready. We'd fight over where we'd eat, and what, settling for the first choice on both, after a ridiculously long time. We'd walk around the shops, buying things we didn't always need, having fun together.

But I already knew it wouldn't be happening. Not this time.

Putting money into my bag, I left the room, slowly walking away. The quiet I'd found was lost, once again.


	6. She Doesn't Know

**Author's note:**

**I tried writing and re-writing this chapter three times before I was happy with it. But it's one of my favorites so far.**

**Soundtrack: **_**Rooney – Stay Away**_

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own imagination**

On Wednesday afternoon, my patience was wearing thin. Alice and I hadn't had a straight conversation yet – I'd tried, but her monosyllabic responses wore me down. I thought, at first, it would be a matter of time before the whole partying thing would die down – but today she'd proven me wrong yet again.

That was how I'd come to lie in bed, sulking, while she whirled around to get ready. Mostly.

Edward had barely spoken to me since our run-in at the pool; every time we'd see each other he'd been impeccably polite, greeting me and then going back to whatever he was doing. It was bugging me not knowing the reason for his sudden change of heart, so to speak.

The work we'd done together was amazing, humility aside. It was truly well presented, captivating but still sober. He barely stayed long enough to get a metaphorical pat on the back from the teacher before dashing away, leaving me rooted to the ground. I didn't even get the chance to ask him when we'd be doing next week's work.

If he had been dismissive, I could have dealt with that. But there was no dismissal in his expression, in his eyes – both as warm as ever. Just some sort of determination I couldn't quite grasp. It was driving me insane, and I was disappointed at myself for it, to boot. I kept telling myself I wasn't falling for him, but having his image burned in my retinas didn't help.

Frustrated out of my mind, I got up and got into my long coat, receiving a startled and surprised look from Alice.

"I didn't think you'd want to come with me", she stated, forming the longest sentence I'd gotten from her in days. I gritted my teeth, realizing she didn't point that out in an attempt to apologize for not asking me in the first place. She didn't want my company.

"I don't. I just need to go get some fresh air. Lock up when you leave, see you tomorrow", I answered, walking around her to go to the bathroom.

She looked slightly taken aback by the light way I'd talked about it. Not that I'd changed my mind at all; I just wasn't in the mood to push the subject. I'd grown to appreciate Jasper's opinion; if she truly needed to see it for herself, then I'd get out of her way. The sooner her head hit the wall, the sooner she'd wake up. I'd be there to pick up the pieces, no matter what.

After considering myself presentable, I left Alice rummaging through her bag collection and went out into the cold sunny day. Wind had picked up, but I didn't mind it at all; I liked the feeling of it going through my hair. The campus was huge, with plenty of little benches to sit on, most of them empty.

My worries followed me around, as real as my shadow, as I concentrated on the sway of the branches and the rustling leafs. I was just starting to clear my mind, to sort through the noise, as a reddish splash of color claimed my attention.

I stood there, far enough to see he still had his eyes on the book in front of him, nibbling gently on his pen, his long legs stretched out. Only then did I realized that I'd subconsciously been looking for him.

Leaning against a tree, I mused about turning back to my dorm, and avoid him as much as I could. Or about yelling at him for the way he'd been acting.

One impulse trumped them all, stirring inside of me. The one to get near him and soothe him through my touch, so those wrinkles in his forehead disappeared and I could see him smile again.

Taking a breath, I went towards him; he acknowledged me immediately, and apparently my touch wasn't necessary, just my presence. I stopped myself from grinning at the thought.

"Hey, Bella", he greeted me, annoying me some; after all, I'd been getting that from him for days.

"Hey. May I sit with you?" I asked, shoving my hands in my coat pockets, letting him know I was serious about his answer.

"Sure, here", he immediately emptied the space beside him, throwing his bag on the ground. I went to sit there, noticing the all-too-familiar determined look on his face. But suddenly I realized he shouldn't be there.

"Why are you reading here? It's much warmer in the dorm or the library"

I felt like biting my own tongue after that one. I had no right to ask him any questions, especially since I was doing almost the same thing. I was already opening my big mouth to apologize when he answered, while carefully averting his eyes:

"I've got a single room in my dorm and the library is mostly empty; I didn't feel like being alone. At least, this is a nice place to do it at"

I knew the feeling all too well. My whole childhood was spent mostly by myself, at home and school alike. Ironically enough, the decision that would finally end my solitude was moving from a city of millions to a town as small as Forks.

"Most of the time, I enjoy being alone; but some days it's the hardest reality to deal with"

I muttered it mostly to myself, but he turned his face in my direction, letting me know he'd heard me. I was close enough to see his flushed skin, probably due to the cold, and feel his warm sweet breath mingling with the afternoon air. That awful mask melted the same instant, his green eyes softening, matching the setting perfectly. I was sure his smile must have matched my own.

"You're right", he murmured softly. "Sometimes, being alone just isn't the answer to anything at all"

I couldn't help but think he wasn't just making conversation.

"We should probably talk about working for next week's Anatomy class…" I started, trying to snap myself out of the daze I was in. Apparently, it did the same for him.

Edward nodded, checking his wrist watch.

"What do you think about meeting in the library, in approximately an hour and a half? I'll need to go put these down in my room, and that would probably give you enough time to grab dinner", he suggested.

I agreed, seeing him get up and pack his things, before accompanying me down the path. We resumed talking as if the last few days hadn't happened, and the walk back seemed considerably shorter than earlier.

As we stood near the cafeteria door, the old tension came creeping back upon us. He tilted his head to the side ever so slightly, his eyes roaming my face. I wasn't sure I felt embarrassed or pleased by the look on his.

"I like your new haircut, you really look beautiful", he said, unexpectedly. But the sweet look evaporated from his face quickly. "I'll meet you in a bit"

And with that, he turned back, his hand going through his hair as he dashed away. I smiled hopelessly at his words, at the simple truth in them. Edward thought I was beautiful. I was so conflicted by that notion, and yet so happy. I wondered if he regretted having said that, or exposing himself that way, which would account for his behavior afterwards.

It would be better for us, for the both of us, to stay clear from each other. He was under the exact same amount of pressure I was in, and no distractions were welcome. But at the same time, I couldn't help but think he'd be understanding and reasonable because of it.

We couldn't exactly turn our backs on each other, since we were working together. That would have been the only way I'd ever be able to stop thinking about him. Limiting our interactions to that alone would be possible, though.

Realization hit me full force, like a stray baseball, headache included. That's what he'd been trying to do; he didn't want to ignore me, we were both just going through the same thing. And I was the one to waste his efforts, practically searching him out earlier.

I groaned, chewing the stuffed potatoes as fast as I could so I'd still have time to brush my teeth and pick up the notes in my room.

I didn't know what to do. That was the truth. My chest felt ripped right down the middle. Sorting through the noise, I reached an agreement with myself. I'd just go through tonight, be professional about it, and leave the rest for tomorrow. It wasn't even sane to feel this pull towards someone I'd met a week ago.

With all the hurrying, I ended up arriving early, so I stayed at the library's door waiting for him, steadying myself while the sky grew increasingly darker and it started to rain lightly.

It did me absolutely no good whatsoever. All thoughts slipped from my mind as I saw him arrive, a small smile tugging at his lips, his beautiful face partially buried in the high neck of the waterproof coat.

I'd never been this grateful for silence. My own internal chatter ceased immediately. I wasn't going to let myself ruin this.

As we entered the library, we immediately started talking about this week's work, eager to tackle it. The librarian, however, had a different opinion.

The tall African-American man stood behind his desk, eyeing us angrily through his modern pair of glasses.

"I'm afraid I've already talked to Professor Gaspard about this subject, Miss Swan. The library is already open for extended hours, and we always received requests like this, but it's just impossible. We would have to take night shifts to satisfy everyone."

"We're both reliable, as our status as assistants can attest to, and last week we were here doing the exact same thing. And I'm sure we left the doors closed and everything as it was, so I see no reason for us not to be trusted again", I stated, trying to solve this in the best way possible. What could he do? Just throw us out? We had to work, or did he think we'd pull in some speakers and throw a party?

"That's not the issue here, I'm afraid. This is an issue of principle. If I allow you two, I'll have to allow everyone else as well, otherwise it wouldn't be fair. Since being an assistant isn't a paid job, I can't"

I had to refrain myself from snorting and crossing my arms in front of my chest. That would have really ruined my attempt at being polite and adult while handling this.

"So, you're saying that, because we're not paid to work extra hours, you'll be making it even more difficult for us", Edward clarified with his voice straining, standing at my side with a murderous glare towards the man and his hands balled up in fists. I'd never seen him so close to losing his temper, and somehow I found it sexy.

"I'm sorry, I'm only enforcing the rules", the young man stated, immediately walking away from us. Not that I could blame him.

I reached for one of Edward's hands, claiming his attention.

"Relax, we'll be okay. I'll ask the teacher to sign some sort of document and shut him up next time", I promised, trying to lighten his mood.

"So we'll reschedule?" he asked, his hand relaxed against mine and his eyes sweetening. I wasn't given time to answer. "Or we could just go do it in my room. I have my laptop there, and we'd have the space. I didn't suggest it earlier because I didn't want to make you uncomfortable"

There was a very good chance I wouldn't be able to concentrate half as well in his dorm room, but I tried to talk myself into it; it wasn't such a big deal at all. Only it was a big deal, for me.

I remembered my own thoughts earlier. I wasn't going to let myself ruin this.

"Let's go", I answered, slipping my hand away from under his, trying to keep my last shred of sanity.


	7. The Game is On

**Author's note:**

**I'm blown away by the positive response I've gotten so far, so thanks to all of you.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own imagination. Does anyone, really?**

I followed Edward through the rain, trying to shield myself as much as I could, until we reached his dorm. I could feel my pants and coat becoming saturated and heavy, and wondered if there was any chance I'd be able to dry them.

«_No undressing_», I thought to myself harshly. It was a terrible cliché; girl gets wet and cold, boy lends her his clothes. The rest just wrote itself.

Entering, I slipped out of my coat, searching for a hanger. As I scouted the room, I noticed how well kept it was for a boy. The matching dark furniture seemed brand new, probably his own, and the soft white and green throughout made it a peaceful place. So different than having to live with Alice's pink and frilly obsession.

"You have a great room. Do you have connections with any interior designers?"

He chuckled, taking my coat and hanging it somewhere in the bathroom, where it wouldn't drip onto the carpet.

"That would be my mother. She took over organizing the space for me, but I couldn't get it to match my own taste any better if I did it myself"

I smiled, nodding, knowing he wouldn't see it. A large shell unit by the door was mostly filled with CD's, a keyboard resting on top. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was a Music major.

The only item hanging from the walls was a large picture of a slightly younger Edward and a middle-aged couple, one on each side, hugging him and smiling.

"Are these your parents?", I asked, not just looking for a confirmation. These two people shared no physical traits with him. The tall and lean man had light blonde hair, and the sweet-looking woman had caramel hair and brown eyes. Both of them beautiful, but not as disconcertingly as their son.

"In all the ways that count", he answered in a low voice, from right behind me, startling me for a second. I understood immediately what he meant. "I was a baby when they took me in. They've been there for me all my life, and Carlisle is the reason why I came to this college"

"What do you mean?", I blurted out, turning to him and trying to read his expression. I wasn't expecting it to be so pained, and winced a little for making him feel that way. "I'm sorry, I'm being intrusive", I sighed.

"It's alright, honestly. I don't mind admitting I'd rather be learning something music related, but I just can't. It's not an option"

Taking notice of the fact I'd read him correctly, I felt anger bubble inside me: "Your dad made you give it up?"

It horrified me to even think about it. I wouldn't have dealt with it well, if it had been me in that situation. I'd follow through with my wishes and make sure my parents lived to regret it.

"No, of course not!", he half-yelled, about as horrified as I felt. "They never tried to force me into anything, much on the contrary; they always insisted we had the financial stability for me to do whatever I wanted with my life. But I just can't do it. In some way, I think I owe it to them, to show them that they raised a man that can take care of himself, make his own money, and build an impressive career. It's not as if I don't feel attracted to medicine, I do, it's just…"

"Music is what you love", I finished. We fell silent for a few seconds, and I went to sit at the corner of his bed, his words filling my head. Would I have made the same decision? My choice of profession was one even the most demanding parents would be happy with. But what if it wasn't? Would I really fight for it? "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure", he answered, coming to sit at my side.

"Will you play for me, some other time?", I managed out, my voice cracking against my best efforts.

He smiled, his broad shoulders relaxing.

"Whenever you want, just say the word. And I take requests too", he added with a chuckle, before going to the desk to grab the laptop.

After that, we finally got to work; it took us both a long time to find good illustrations and photos online, since we hadn't access to a scanner, but it slowly built itself up. I handled the side notes, even though I could feel my eyelids drooping. I'm sure he felt just as tired, by the way he was grabbing his pillow.

"Bella?", I heard him ask, somewhat closer to me than I thought he was.

"Just wrapping up, two more minutes, maybe", I answered quickly, stifling a yawn. It was definitely late and he probably wanted to go to bed – the same bed I was currently sitting on -, even if he was too much of a gentleman to say so.

"That's fine, I was just wondering… Are we friends?"

His sweet voice and breath filled the air around me, successfully stopping my train of thought dead in its tracks. My hands hovered over the keyboard while I turned to him.

His hair was droopy because of the rain earlier, and he had slight lavender shadows under his eyes. Those amazing green eyes…

"Of course we are", I stated, my voice low but audible. He smiled, getting up and leaving me to finish. I bit into my lower lip, giving the notes a quick onceover and comparing them to the slides to make sure everything was perfect. As I turned off the laptop and got up to search for my coat, Edward was already there, holding it for me, fully clothed. It took me a minute to figure out why.

"Edward, you're not taking me back, it's cold and it's late, you're already home, just stay, I'll be…"

He interrupted me by placing one of his long fingers on my lips, lowering his head so our foreheads almost touched, freezing me much more effectively than any pair of shackles with that small touch.

"I know you're an independent, strong woman, but it's cold and late and I want to make sure you get to your dorm just fine. After all, we're friends, and that gives me the right to be a little pushy"

_If we're friends, than why are your eyes telling me different?_

I kept that question silent, simply nodding and following a very happy looking Edward out the door. I didn't even put up a fight; the way he'd complimented me first left me completely defenseless. On the way to my dorm I mused about working on that.

He stood at my dorm room's door, hands in his pockets, true to his promise, when we said our goodnights. I went up to my room, trying to shake that mental image so I'd get a decent night's sleep, when I remembered checking the time. 3 a.m.; well, it would hardly be a night's sleep, but four hours was better than nothing.

Alice wasn't home. I sighed, my overall happiness towards the night I'd spend with Edward now tainted. I made a note to myself to try and find out if she'd been going to class every day or not.

Even with the little sleep I'd had, I woke up in a good mood, throwing on my favorite emerald knit sweater and rushing so I'd get to Cellular Biology in time. I refused to miss this class; it wasn't just demanding and heavy, but the only one where I'd see Edward for the following two days.

I got there just in time, and took a seat towards the back of the room, since he was nowhere to be seen. As I wondered if the late night had gotten the best of him, class started silently with a video about cell dynamic. Unfortunately, it made it that much obvious when the door swung open to give entry to a flushed Edward.

After receiving a disapproving look from the assistant teacher, he came to sit by my side, smiling but not daring to whisper some sort of greeting. As the dull video continued, I heard a small raspy noise of paper being dropped to the ground. I picked up the folded page, recognizing his handwriting.

I had to muster an incredible amount of control not to burst out laughing in the middle of a dead quiet room; what was this, Junior High? Making sure my movements weren't noticeable, I read through it:

_- I was late because Mr. Gaspard caught me in the hall. I need to talk to you after class, wait for me. -_

I nodded once, knowing he'd understand, and tried my best to pay attention to the lecture. Two long hours afterwards, I jumped out of my seat, knowing I'd probably have about 10 minutes before I had to get to Psychology, which wasn't even in the same building.

As soon as we were out the door, Edward tugged gently at my arm, leading towards the exit. Even before I was able to process how he'd come to leave the room before me, he was speaking:

"Do you have time for us to talk?"

"Not much", I admitted, "but don't leave me hanging here. What is it? Is there something wrong?"

"Well, yes", he said, turning to me with an anxious expression. "It's my fault, the librarian took it up with the Science department, and apparently they're willing to offer a paid position as an assistant"

"_An_ assistant? As in one?", I asked, my happy weekly refuge crumbling before my eyes. "So, they're bringing in someone to do our work"

He paused for a couple of seconds, sadness overtaking his features. "No, not really; they figured it wouldn't be fair, so Mr. Gaspard will be choosing one of us. We have a meeting with him on Saturday morning regarding this"

My heart sunk to my stomach; this was it. From now on, we weren't working together towards something, but competing with each other. One would get the amazing opportunity of a paid job – with all the credit among the faculty and curriculum boost it entailed – and the other wouldn't. This situation might be a lot of things, but fair wasn't one of them; in a way, I wished they would have brought someone new.

"I really loved working with you", I said, barely acknowledging I'd said it out loud.

His sad expression became mischievous as he answered: "You'll be seeing more of me. And I will give you a run for this job, I can promise you that."

I was bewildered by his statement. Here I was, worrying about such a drastic change in our relationship – and the time we'd have together, if I wanted to be honest – and he was flirting and defying me. For some reason, I was proud about it – it showed he took me as an equal and that this could actually be enjoyable – something we'd laugh about over coffee. I could picture it easily; him getting back at me next semester by stealing the assistant's job during internship. Internship in the same team as Edward, seeing him everyday…

The wide grin appeared in my face all by itself. It was inevitable. My whole body and mind quivered in anticipation as I breathed out my response:

"You're on, Cullen."


	8. A New Breed of Game

**Author's note: **

**Some of the technical details revolving the swimming pool and college itself may not be accurate. And, for that, I apologize. Hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I do, and that's saying something.**

Before coming to college, you idealize it. A lot, if you're like me. Because High School is an environment you're dying to get out of, and how worse could it possibly get? At least, you believe it will be somewhat easier to get by when you're surrounded by people who share your passion. A place for equals to develop themselves together and share that experience.

Well, tough luck.

Over the past weeks, I'd come to see college as a sea of many smaller crowds. And you still had the unreasonably beautiful girls, the jocks, the goths, the geeks and all in between. The different social status was evident, and having people from every part of the country made it even harder to connect. The behavior itself had changed only slightly and probably because the new surroundings demanded respect, but I was fully aware that most of the student body over-compensated it by partying just as seriously.

And I wanted desperately to know if Alice was among them or not. I might have been there to see many behavioral changes, but I still believed I really knew her, and I knew something must have happened to get her to act in such a way. So, I planned to sneak around and try to find out who she had been out with, and if school was falling behind or not. My behavior was justified, it's not like I was stalking her or betraying her trust, or at least that's what I told myself.

But only half my heart and half my brain were in it. I had a game on my hands, and I was more than eager to get to it; unfortunately, that didn't make the clock tick any quicker.

Spreading my legs forward, so I'd give my knees some well-needed rest, I talked in a low voice to Jasper, who was just as bored. Psychology could have been bearable, if the teacher's voice wasn't so excruciatingly high-pitched throughout the whole three hour lecture. Jasper brought one of the boys in the front row to my attention; the poor fellow was trying to bury his head in his shoulders to muffle the sound; some had just given up and were currently listening to music, as discretely as possible.

Deciding to give up myself, I filled him in on the challenge I was currently a part of, struggling not to bounce up and down on the chair. Honestly, my maturity was failing me those days; it seemed it went out the window, along with my better judgment, courtesy of a Mr. Cullen.

"You have some strong feelings for this guy", Jasper shot, successfully embarrassing me. That had me backtracking as fast as I could, trying to defend myself.

"Not strong feelings per se, I mean, it's not like I have anything against him, that's all"

Jasper smirked and looked straight ahead, muttering something about denial. I resisted rolling my eyes at him or sticking out my tongue. For such an understanding man, he did get the wrong impression about things.

Friday was almost over, and classes were simple enough to follow; since I'd be careful getting everything done the day before, I could spend the afternoon and my weekend sorting out a way to compete against Edward. Despite the result, I would most surely enjoy the process.

Finally stepping out of the building, I kept discussing the Bronte sisters' work with Jasper as we walked away. It was interesting and scary to find that I trust him, in the same innate way I'd trusted Alice when we first began High School and became friends. For the first time I'd felt like a part of something, a group. It might have been just us, but it was enough; I could never quite understand why she chose me, but I was grateful for it.

In those years we'd spent together, I had most certainly not changed. I was still the same stubborn girl who took care of everyone, but Alice had given me confidence. I was now able to stand in a social situation without stammering, or blushing, or retrieving into myself. I'd grown to be a better, more capable woman because of her.

I decided then that I would continue to trust her. Maybe she wasn't herself lately, but I did trust her to tell me when she needed me to be there.

After saying goodbye to my new friend – or at least that's how I thought of him, even if I was pretty sure it was mutual – I went back to my room, my head filled with memories, craving some comfort food. I tried opening the door, but noticing it wouldn't open all the way I pushed forward harder, wishing I wouldn't find another nuclear fashion disaster by Alice.

To my surprise, however, it was a big carton box.

I eagerly read the attached card, and realized with a smile it was from Charlie. He'd given us as a gift – which was both unusual and sweet. I opened it, and was happy to find a fire engine red mini-refrigerator, just as small as a hotel mini bar, but extremely useful; this way I could get something back to the room for dinner.

I immediately called my father to thank him, nostalgia washing over me in waves. I missed him more than I even realized, and hearing his voice was certainly soothing. It was a short phone call – we were both people of few words – but it meant the world. And I could tell he was happy I liked the gift too.

Finding the right spot and installing it took me a while, but at that point I'd already settled for procrastination. Just one afternoon wouldn't hurt, after all. I made a trip to the supermarket, buying some food and drinks, dreaming about the day I'd have my own kitchen to cook in; by the time I came back, Alice was already gone, leaving scattered shoes as evidence of her presence.

The next morning was Saturday morning. My morning.

I ran to the swimming complex, and for the first time I wasn't just looking forward to stress release and exercise, but for a certain encounter as well.

I might have been a strong woman, as Edward put it, but I was still just human. And longing to see him once more was hardly something I could feel guilty about; any woman in her right mind would want that.

Of course he was much more than a sculpted body and a beautiful face. Not only my least noble side was attracted to him, but I shrugged it as best as I could. I wouldn't allow myself to slip in too deep.

Slipping into the water, I felt the familiar calming tingle of the cold liquid against my skin, but as much as I tried I couldn't quite find the quiet I was hoping for. In between lengths, I'd look around, checking to see if he'd arrived or not, and scolding myself each time.

Once I was pretty sure he wouldn't come, I felt a bit sad, but was able to somewhat relax and stop for some needed air.

And that meant I was completely unprepared to deal with suddenly hearing his voice.

"Good morning, Bella. I must say I'm a bit disappointed – that length was quite sloppy"

My back froze against the cold tile of the pool wall, and I pulled up my goggles and turned to see him.

Edward was crouching right beside the block, wearing nothing but his shorts, his position emphasizing his muscular self. I could feel myself burn all of a sudden, in very different, very dangerous ways.

I forced myself to swallow back the searing desire, and regain my speech function in time to make him swallow his criticism.

"Back then I wasn't even trying. And it's not like I've seen you do any better", I replied, my voice low and laced with emotion.

His smirk grew wider, and he climbed on the block beside my own, positioning himself without even putting on a cap or goggles. I didn't need – or want – to take my eyes from him to know we were alone. Silence filled the air around us, torn only by the sound of Edward's deep breath before he jumped.

After describing a perfect arch, his stretched body broke the water with surprising grace for someone so tall, and I couldn't, for the life of me, close my mouth. Or stop myself from physically drooling.

He was perfect. Seeing his muscles straining through every movement, quickly yet precisely, only made it that much worse. After a very well accomplished turn, he started swimming back, and I tried to compose myself as best as I could, listening to his ragged breaths drawing closer.

After finishing, he dived in quickly and ran his hand through his hair, effectively messing it up as much as usual, the same smirk still playing at his lips, telling me he was obviously proud of himself.

"So, now you've seen me. What do you think?", he asked.

"Not bad", I replied, my voice unwavering. I could play back just as well. "There's some technique there, but you're not terribly fast"

I was lying. He was fast – frighteningly so – but I could be fast too. The adrenaline of competition was flowing freely through me, and I went with it, to at least distract me from taking him against the pool wall in all his wet glory.

Apparently, I did rattle his cage.

"You want me to disprove that theory, Bella? I won't be nice on you", he warned, closing in the distance between us. I needed to get away from the situation if I wanted to remain in control, and his green eyes boring into mine weren't helping at all.

"I never asked you to be nice. I'm asking you to give it your best shot, but I still don't believe you'll beat me", I replied, sliding out of the pool and onto the block.

He looked a bit shell shocked, and I made a mental inventory of what I was wearing: a simple navy bathing suit with thin pink stripes on the sides. I would have wished I'd insisted with Alice not to buy me something this low cut, but I felt too confident in it for that.

Shaking his head, he climbed out of the water and took his place beside me.

"I didn't know you enjoyed competing this much", he stated, bending forward.

"You have no idea", I answered, laughing and mimicking his stance.

I heard him mutter something under his breath, and then starting the countdown.

I got myself to concentrate so I'd show this boy that, although he was good, I was indeed a threat to be taken seriously.

"Three… two… one… GO!", he yelled, and we jumped off the blocks simultaneously, the many years of training swerving through my head as I hit the water.

It had never been about competition. Sure, I was still one of the best, but it had never been important to me. But today, it was very much about winning.

Feeling the ripples from his movements on my side, I willed my body to strain, taking only short quick breaths when absolutely necessary; it was just one length, so it didn't really matter if I was panting by the end of it.

As soon as my hands hit the tile wall my head shot up, and I could see we'd made it there just side by side, none of us the winner.

I grinned wildly. He was much taller and muscular than me, not to mention stronger, but I'd still kept pace with him; that itself was no small victory. At first Edward looked a bit surprised, but then smiled back at me and leaned on the separating buoys, still panting. I couldn't believe how much I liked to see him do so, and felt myself flush harder due to my own deviant thoughts.

"I'll hand it to you, you're fast!", he laughed, his head slumping slightly in defeat.

"Thank you. So, what did I win?", I asked, playfully.

His head shot back up, but I was only able to enjoy his confusion for a few fleeting seconds.

"I'll make it up to you later", he replied, in a very sexy voice. If I was still prone to blushing, I'd be doing so.

"You shouldn't swim around without a cap, you know. It's against their policy, you'll end up banned from the pool", I stated, trying to change topics as fast as possible. We were now inches apart and the water around us was growing warmer with the heat we both gave off.

Instead of answering me, he took my goggles and cap and tossed them away. I was about to protest when I felt his hand weaving through my damp hair, loosening it up and making the locks fall down from the messy bun I'd put it into earlier.

"Just relax", he said in the same sexy murmur, staring back into my eyes. "Let your hair down, Bella. We're alone; it's just the two of us. It's ok to break the rules"

The profound irony of his words wasn't lost in me. I breathed in deep, and dived briefly to smooth out my hair; his eyes never left me.

After a few seconds, I decided to swim a few more lengths, one thought and one thought alone in my head as I heard him keeping up.

This was a dangerous game we were playing.


	9. Business Hours

When we finally left the pool, we were already late for the meeting with Mr. Gaspard. Rushing there, I found it hard to keep up with his pace, but held my own even if it meant nearly spitting out my lungs.

Edward's reaction, however, wasn't one I would have expected; he kept turning to watch me run, and smile as if it was cute. If I wasn't so short for breath, I would have bickered with him about it.

By the time we got in the office, we were both hot, sweaty, flushed messes. The teacher looked at both of us with a disapproving look, and told us to sit down.

It took me a while to realize how we must have looked to him. Coming in late, hair still wet from showering, panting and sneaking looks at each other. So I pursed my lips and forced myself to stay still to try and put up a much more serious appearance.

"I've summoned you two here because, as you must know by now, it's up to me to select one of you to keep the job, and get paid for it. This isn't something I'll be taking lightly, and whoever gets it should expect things to become a little bit harder"

I saw Edward frown from the corner of my eye. Of course it would be harder; whoever got it was going to be responsible for double the work load, and doing things alone isn't exactly motivational.

"So", the teacher continued, after a pause to let that information sink in, "today I would like to learn about your work methods, and who did what, exactly. I won't be making my decision until next week, but I'd like to have some feedback in order for it to be as fair as possible"

So, basically, he wanted to know who was in the lead. That was easy enough to answer; we both were. We'd discussed every topic and both contributed with our ideas, every step of the way. It had been a true collaboration, so if he was hoping for us to start gloating and badmouthing each other, he had another thing coming.

After an excruciating hour of questioning, the frustrated teacher finally let us go, obviously annoyed that neither of us had made his decision easier.

And that rendered me fully aware of the fact that nothing was decided yet. If I tried hard enough, if I found the right strategy and followed through with it, I'd get this.

We left the building, silent for a while, until Edward decided to break me out of my thoughts, tentatively asking:

"So, what you do you think about getting some coffee?"

"Trying to get my sympathy, are you?", I joked, deciding it was probably better to go back to my room for the day, and actually get some work done. Looking into his stunning green eyes and making him smile seemed much more attractive prospects, but that was the main reason why I shouldn't allow myself to. "Just because it's Saturday, doesn't mean it's not business hours. And, during business hours, I'm not a friend, I'm your opponent", I added, trying to spur him into reacting.

"Business hours, huh?", he retorted, sounding amused, even though his expression didn't show it. He seemed almost disappointed, and I wondered if he thought I was being cold. "Okay then. I guess I'll see you Monday"

"See you", I called back, walking to my dorm. My calves were killing me; I'd have to get my legs up soon, to give them some rest.

Shock overtook me as I opened the door. Alice was home, standing in front of the desk, on her sewing machine. I could tell she was deep in creation – muttering under her breath about chiffon draping and thread colors. I let her be, sinking into my Anatomy books, sorting out what to do, exactly.

I knew I'd have to outdo his work – and I knew exactly how creative he could be - and, as if that wasn't enough, he also had the basis for three more classes. I highly doubted he'd have the time to set them up by himself, but it was still a possibility.

So, thinking within my time frame, I figured I'd organize a lecture.

_Flyers, posters, invitations, location_… all these thoughts swirled through my mind, but I knew it wouldn't do any good until I actually found someone to do it. I'd have only a day or two to convince my _target_, and it had to be something relevant – perhaps someone who'd done some kind of advance in orthopedics, since we were studying bone structure later in the semester.

Once every quarter of an hour Alice's ranting became too loud to ignore, and a few hours into it I turned up some Rock to just drown out her voice. I was still hurt about the way she'd treat me, and even if I was ready to forgive her I still wanted her to know she wasn't out of the woods just yet.

By Sunday, I had a pile of research ready, and five possible names. I'd found their contacts, and all of them were definite possibilities; however, only one, Dr. Sparrow, both lived and worked near Dartmouth, and had connections with the College.

If I could get to him, I might actually get this done.

Cursing myself for being the queen of all that's geek, and going to bed at ten p.m. after spending a weekend researching, I went through my plan in my mind, dowsing off. My last coherent thought was: _and we haven't even reached the first mid-terms._

Next day, I woke in a confused state; after figuring out why everything was so silent, I remembered going to bed early. I'd woken up naturally, not in the alarm clock induced panic I was used to. And it felt weird. Managing to screw my sleep patterns was easy enough, though. This wasn't necessarily a bad thing, since I'd be working in shifts in the future.

First class, Anatomy. I got a front row seat, not caring about the fact I knew the lecture word by word. Edward came in a few seconds later, and took a seat right next to me. The way he smelled in the morning was wonderful, a mixture of cinnamon and fresh laundry; I felt a shiver running through my spine, but other than greeting him, I tried to avert my eyes and thought from him as much as I could. Was this man truly this easy to like?

I looked around with interest, probably for the first time; I wasn't one to take notice on my surroundings when in class. Yes, there were other girls sneaking looks at him, nothing out of the ordinary; but they sneaked looks at me too…

Then it hit me; 48 hours too late. I'd laugh at my own stupidity if I'd been alone. The way the teacher looked at us was disapproving, yes, but not surprised. Working late in the library and Edward's dorm room? By now, we were probably the object of some of the juiciest gossip around.

I found immediately that I didn't care. If anything, it would help me with driving away some unwanted male attention. You'd think I wouldn't have that many suitors, with me being quite plain-looking, but High School and one Mike I-Don't-Give-Up Newton taught me different.

But what about Edward? Maybe I'd been screwing up his love life, even if blissfully unaware. _No, that's not him_. I'd grown to recognize myself a lot in his actions, and I knew he took college just as seriously as I did. He didn't mind, if asking me for coffee on Saturday was any proof.

What if Alice knew?

That much was clear. She didn't. If she did, it wouldn't matter if we were having a fight for weeks; I could have been hooked up to an IV on the Intensive Care Unit and she'd still barge in and ask for details. There was no way in hell the Alice I knew would have just put that information aside; it was too deep into her genetic information to be nosy about other people's love life, especially mine; even if it was inexistent. To her credit, she did try.

I snapped out of my thoughts when the teacher arrived. Edward had a slight smirk on his face – one I could feel more than I could see – and I felt myself panicking all of a sudden. What was he planning?

Slide by slide, the lecture developed, and I noticed the teacher was using my words, one by one, which was nothing but a good sign.

And then, there was a question. And Edward answered.

Well, that was _rude_. I mean, we'd written it; wouldn't it be fair to let others answer?

He was just showing off, trying to impress. I had to get in on it.

The following question, both our arms shot up, and I was called for an answer. _Touché_, Cullen.

I turned to him and smirked slightly, after a correct answer, and found him smirking right back, his green eyes mischievous. I'd have to watch my back.

Pretty soon, Mr. Gaspard simply ignored both our arms and focused on someone behind us. It was pretty clear we wouldn't be answering anything else, until I remembered my own side notes; I'd written in a trick question about two different skin cell types, something out of an advance study that I figured the teacher would love to use for show off.

Only two people in that entire classroom knew the answer, other than the teacher. It was time to use Edward's own methods against him.

Timing my actions, I turned slowly to him, carefully cracking a smile and keeping a – hopefully – sexy expression.

When he caught me staring, he immediately dropped his pen mid-air. I could see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his long pale neck, and his shocked look almost made me stop and run my fingers through his hair.

_Good._

"Edward, I was wondering…", I murmured, leaning towards his ear and getting close enough to feel the warmth of his skin and his overwhelming smell at its strongest. I had to pause for a second to keep myself in check, instead of dragging my lips through his skin. "… what about my prize for beating you on Saturday?"

I left that suggestive question pending; right on time for me to answer Mr. Gaspard's question. _Bonus Points for Bella._

Looking back at his face, I wasn't even sure he'd understood what happened. His eyes were now narrow slits, his fists clenched on the edge of the small table.

"Oh, don't worry", he answered, before dragging his tongue over his bottom lip, "I won't forget it, I'm just waiting for business hours to end. You know, the period when you're still my opponent"

Did he turn my own game against me? Yes, he did. He very much did. And, having nothing to answer back, I sunk in my chair and tried to ignore the boiling heat going through me and messing with my thoughts, my feelings and urges. Like the urge to crush my lips and myself to him and come up only for air, eventually.


	10. Ploting a Surrender

**Author's note: **

**The response has been overwhelmingly positive, thanks to all of you! I can't believe this is chapter 10 already! It's quite a bit longer than my usual chapters – but I trust that you'll understand why.**

**A special shout-out to ****pippapear****, for her reviews and incentive all along.**

I was so glad about the assignment I instantly forgave the short, stubby Psychology teacher for her shrieking during the previous lectures. Instead of a three hour class we were given the time for independent work in pairs, in order to produce a text about quality of life; no presentation required, which meant about half the work load.

Looking through the crowd, I spotted a familiar head of curly blonde hair.

"Jasper!", I hissed, wanting to get his attention before he paired up with someone else.

"Hey!", he answered back, grinning. As soon as the teacher turned her back to write the guidelines on the board, he launched himself in a quick run through the chairs and landed with a loud thump in the one next to me, earning himself a few curious glances; I just snickered at the childish behavior. "How's everything?", he asked in a low voice, obviously meaning Alice.

"So far, all the same, but I'm hopeful", I answered, not particularly fond of dwelling on those issues for now. "Do you mind being my partner?"

"No ma'am", he answered in his southern drawl, making me grin.

"I could kiss you right now", I stated, getting on my feet as soon as the teacher finished the obvious guidelines. Behind me, I heard Jasper chuckle.

"Careful now, I'm not taken, I might take you up on that", he retorted, making me laugh. "So why are you so excited?"

He seemed curious and if I was to rush this in order to buy time, I might as well justify myself to the poor boy. It was now Tuesday, and tomorrow morning I and Edward had plotted to corner the teacher and force him to give us a hint as to who he'd choose.

Of course, that was the official version. The truth was, I was going to grab the opportunity and surrender the teacher my work; I was pretty sure Edward was thinking the exact same thing.

The problem was, I didn't have anything to deliver. Not yet, anyway; Dr. Sparrow was now my last resort, and if I didn't get hold of him that day, that'd be the end of it.

"I don't understand why you're rushing this; wouldn't you want it to last longer? So you guys could get to know each other?"

Averting my eyes to the brown stone buildings, I tried to reply as best as I could.

"I'm trying not to think about it just yet. I'm concentrating on the work, Jasper. It's what really matters"

I waited for an answer, but got none. When I finally turned to him I could see he was slightly smirking, but decided not to pursue the subject.

We ended up going to a small coffee shop near the campus and worked on my laptop, using Wi-Fi. He told me a bit more about his life back in Texas, and I found myself having the kind of quiet good time I came to crave. The fact I'd lived the last four years in Forks puzzled him the most; apparently, I projected the image of a big-city girl. Go figure.

About two hours and four lattes later, the paper was ready to print and turn in. I said goodbye to Jasper, thanking him once again for willingly rush the whole thing, and promised to myself I'd call him soon, maybe schedule a dinner and convince Alice to come along. I was almost positive she'd crumble once I gave her a complete description of his looks.

I all but ran back to my dorm room, adrenaline running through my veins. I had the last parts of strategizing to do. I could tell the day was shaping up to be pretty long.

_Reeling in the mark_. After a few phone calls, I was able to reach the office of the award winning orthopedic surgeon with multiple published works. I had made friends with his secretary the day before, knowing full well being nice took you a long way. When she started musing out loud after a possible opening on the good doctor's schedule that afternoon, I knew I'd struck gold.

After a lot of chasing around, we had an impromptu meeting over the phone, and I tried my best to convince him; truth be told, it was easy enough. He lived in Plymouth, so all it took was some well directed praise to boost his ego and assure him a vast audience interested in his riveting findings. About bones.

I immediately designed the poster, the flyers, and checked the available dates and hours for the auditorium, cross-referencing them with the time slots Dr. Sparrow supplied as most convenient to him. I wanted it to be a solid proposal, not just a might happen if all goes well kind of thing. Teachers liked creativity, but presenting them with a done deal was their wet dream.

By the end of the work day, I was beat. I knew I still had some Statistics notes to go over for the next day, but I put it aside; even though it wasn't a rainy day, it was cold and unpleasant. There was really not a lot to do in the room, and our dorm didn't have a living area or kitchen, so I just grabbed some snacks from the fridge – silently thanking Charlie – and settled in bed.

Only thing was, I wasn't sleepy at all. Sure, I got what I wanted, and the blue folder on my desk was the proof. But I was too restless to sleep, so I just decided to read a little from my very small private collection of books, just for half an hour or so.

Ten long chapters after, I was still wide awake. I put the book aside, shifting so I could see the time. Way too late for me to be that perky, but I couldn't help it; there was definitely something wrong with me. Hoping for something to lull me to sleep, even if it was out of boredom, I picked up my Statistics notes and went over them.

Alice arrived a little after two – and blinked in a confused state as to why I was still awake, just looking at the ceiling. Not even the crappiest, most annoying subject I had was able to rid me of my insomnia.

Giving in to it, I turned off the light and turned to the wall, remembering a couple of meditation exercises I once did, concentrating on my breathing.

And when did that crap ever work?

After turning and tossing for ages, I heard a muffled noise. My cell phone, vibrating on the nightstand.

I checked the time on my alarm clock; practically 4 a.m.; if I couldn't hear Alice's soft breathing on the bed next to mine, I'd be worried.

Reaching out, I read the message.

_- If you're awake, go to your window -_

It was Edward's; but how could he possibly know?

Reaching for my thick coat, I tiptoed to the window and pried it open carefully, so it wouldn't squeak, all the while worrying about waking Alice; fortunately, she didn't even flinch.

Looking down towards the back of my dorm, I saw a tall figure staring back at me. Even with the dim lighting, I could make out his white smile.

"What are you doing here?", I whispered out, unsure as to if he'd hear me.

"Couldn't sleep either", he replied. "Why are we whispering?"

"So my roommate doesn't wake up and yell at us", I bit back; I was in a foul mood to begin with, and he wasn't helping matters.

"Come down, then", he argued, but the night breeze wasn't very inviting.

"No, it's cold outside!"

I could hear him chuckling before adding:

"Do you want me to come up to your room?"

I fought back a gasp and forced myself to grimace down to him. I couldn't – and wouldn't – invite him up, but I didn't want to send him away either. And the night's sleep was already lost, so what would it hurt? At least, I'd have company.

"Just wait, I'll be down in a minute"

Receiving a flash of what I thought to be a smile, I pulled a thick soft white sweater over my jeans and slip back inside my coat. I smiled to Alice's sleeping form before shutting the door; if she were to wake up in the middle of the night, I'd be, for once, the one M.I.A.

When I got out of the dorm, there he was, waiting; and now I noticed the bag on his hands, a divine smell wafting away from it.

"What is that?", I asked, hungrily sniffing the air.

"Our breakfast", he responded, smiling, his eyes specked in gold from all the tall lamps in sight. Then his attention dropped to the insides of the bag, and I found myself wishing he'd look up again. "I didn't know what you'd like, so I brought my own favorites: Cappuccino with lots of foam and warm apple cinnamon bagels"

I bit my lower lip, dancing on the inside. I didn't have much of a dinner, and I was one to enjoy food and eating; my stomach wasn't too happy with my decision at all.

"Thanks, you read my mind", I responded, with a smile. But the awkwardness of the situation and my curiosity won out. "But, why did you show up here, this hour of the night?"

He handed me my warm caffeinated drink and bagel, without a word, his brows knitting in thought, and started walking beside me, while we sipped and ate. It took a while, or so it seemed, for him to decide what to tell me.

"I guess I was just nervous about tomorrow, and couldn't sleep. I figured the same might be happening to you, and since I'd be going to this coffee shop I know, it would be a nice gesture." Then a smirk overtook his lips as he said, "And this isn't, by any means, business hours, so we're allowed to share coffee"

I laughed with him, remembering my own words on Saturday, and nodded. I was still a little baffled by his actions – that he actually thought about me during a sleepless night and went out to act on it – but it pleased me and sounded logic, so it was fine by me. Probably sensing it, he went on speaking.

"I didn't want to knock on your door or something, I might get the wrong one, and I even considered throwing a rock at your window, but then I thought I might not get the right window or break the glass; that would just be my luck, so I settled for a message. If you were asleep, than it probably wouldn't have woken you anyway"

I chocked on the delicious food, before laughing out loud at his words.

"You honestly thought about throwing rocks at my window before sending a message?", I asked, finding it both amusing and cute.

"What can I say", he shrugged, the image of relaxation, "I'm a bit of an old-school kind of person"

I could see that easily.

"So, what's the plan?", I asked, finishing my bagel. Edward instantly gave me another, and I held back a smile at my own gluttony and his pampering ways.

"I don't really have one", he admitted. "Maybe just walk around and talk until morning hours, or you get sleepy, whatever suits you. I've always been kind of a night person myself; it has its own sounds, but it's still quiet"

"That would be great", I replied, a bit too excitedly for my own taste, but then thought about it a bit better. "But, on one condition." He turned to me then, curiosity written all over his face. I loved the way his skin flushed in contact with the cold wind, turning the stark contrast with his hair all the more evident. "No talking about work. Business hours are over"

He nodded in agreement, a small smile stretching over his lips.

"I kind of liked business hours; you're fun to rile up. Not everyone has it in them, but you're feisty, which makes it all the better"

And that was the last of that talk, for the night.

We approached such different topics: music, art, politics, and our interests. I was surprised to find that he had a soft spot for fast cars, whereas my love for cooking had him smiling at the, apparently, maternal image I projected.

We eventually sat at one of the little benches, watching the sun rise in the East. I soaked up all details I could in the comfortable position I found myself in – all his liked and dislikes, the ways in which he justified his opinion. But, of course, the tension was always there; I'd thought it was all because of the competition, but I'd been sorely wrong. Sharing those first spectacular and colorful moments of the sunrise with him made me realize the reason why.

Wednesday morning approached, too fast for my liking.

After being escorted back to my room, I began to ready myself for the meeting, my stomach clenching as my nerves finally let themselves show. I did the same routine I had rehearsed so well for stressful occasions such as test days. After a hot shower, I put on some of my favorite items of clothing – something I felt nice and confident in – and pulled my hair straight back in a sleek ponytail. It was all I could do to keep myself from losing my mind over the possibilities of what Edward had in store to impress Mr. Gaspard, and what would change when the choice was announced. I didn't want anything to change, but I wasn't that naïve. I knew him well enough to believe he wouldn't feel terribly wounded about a girl surpassing him, but still… How would he handle it? How would I handle it, if he got it?

I sipped my second cup of coffee of the day with as much calm as I could muster, instructing myself not to run towards the office in the deserted hallways. Still, I was the first one to arrive.

It took seeing Edward turn the corner for my anxiety to resemble a rabid animal clawing at my back.

"Good morning. Are you ready to do this?", he asked, a full blown smile appearing on his lips. The idea of having to part from him after this was physically affecting me, especially after the wonderful night.

"Good morning", I replied, in a little voice that didn't quite match up to his confidence. "I'm ready, how about you? Figured out a good way of getting the job?", I added, willing myself to just be a professional.

"Yes, I think I did", he simply answered, and kept looking into my eyes as if he was trying to unlock my thoughts.

I clutched the blue folder a bit more tightly, trying to get over how absurdly attracted I was to him – his presence, his voice, his face and body. I would take any little portion of him I could get. Even if, after this, we would only see each other a handful of times a week.

Blissfully unaware of our tension, or so it seemed, Mr. Gaspard came in, talking loudly about working early and less than understanding wives. As soon as he set down his briefcase, Edward spoke up.

"Sir, I was wondering if you'd be receptive to an idea of mine", he articulated in such a manner even I was impressed, and I was technically the competition.

"Yes, yes, please", the older man agreed, blinking twice and sitting down, obviously curious. We followed his lead, sitting – or, in my case, sinking – on the uncomfortable chairs.

"I was wondering if it would be possible for us to both continue to do the work… And just split the paycheck between us. That is, if Bella is ok with this…"

I was both shocked and ashamed by his words. As I mumbled an eager agreement, I couldn't stop mentally scolding myself.

Why had I let my competitive streak get the best of me? Why hadn't I thought of this simple, fair, wonderful solution?

Fear rose from the pit of my stomach, and I clenched my cold fingers around the edges of my blue folder yet again. What if I'd taken him too literally? What if he didn't even try to give me a run for this job… at all?

I scanned his figure for proofs of any work he had to show the teacher, but there was nothing. He hadn't done any work, he hadn't prepared as I did. Of course, he didn't think of me as a cold idiot; I'd thought of organizing a freaking lecture before something as natural as sharing.

"I'm sorry, but that won't be possible", the teacher replied, crossing his fingers in front of him and frowning. "I wasn't even supposed to have two assistants to begin with, and I got a nice scolding from the Science Department over it."

I saw Edwards face falling, his lips pressed in a tight line and his jaw set, and my self-loathe reached a new peak. We were doing this, liking it or not. The idea of both of us turning it down was preposterous; at least, one of us should get it, that was for sure.

I felt myself stiff and cold while Edward barked out his argument:

"Sir, this isn't remotely fair. We did this up until now, and I know you were happy about the results. So, how can we not be treated as equals?"

Equals. But if I was to give the teacher this folder… that would change everything. He'd see the additional work I'd spent the last four days going crazy about. I just knew the job would be mine after that.

The teacher ignored Edward's outburst, asking us a few more questions. There were no winners in sight, I could see that much.

How could I be about to betray him and wanting to soothe him all at the same time? Yes, that was exactly how I felt, like I was betraying him and the kindness he showed, believing we'd do this together.

But not handing in the folder? That would be pure, unadulterated idiocy on my part. I'd worked for this, to the best of my abilities, and deserved to have that rewarded. Wasn't that the definition of success? Succeeding over others? Only this was Edward, every bit as deserving as I was, or even more… Wouldn't I want a 50/50 percent chance?

Finally, the questioning seemed to draw to an end.

"So, is there anything any of you have to add to this?", Mr. Gaspard asked, visibly annoyed about our unplanned and less and productive meeting.

_Hand him the folder_, my mind insisted, and I swallowed a lump on my throat.

I looked up at Edward, who looked back at me, visibly distraught.

_Hand the teacher the folder, Bella!_, my mind screamed, but my hands wouldn't move. I wouldn't do it. I didn't know which part of me – the best or worst – had truly won the argument, but when I saw the teacher rising from his chair, I knew it was over.

My choice had been made.

And, according to Mr. Gaspard, I'd know the consequences of it by the end of the week.

Stepping out of the office, I took a long breath of relief.

"Are you ok, Bella?"

I looked up to meet Edward's sad green eyes, wishing I was brave enough to tell him what was really bothering me, but too ashamed to do so. I dumped the offending folder in the trash bag by the door with more than enough force, as if that would make it disintegrate and disappear.

"Yes, I am… I just really wished your idea had worked. Thank you for suggesting it", I answered, shifting on my feet.

"It would be perfect, but maybe it will all work out in the end"

I nodded, not trusting my own voice. Yes, it might work out… I just hoped I'd made the best decision, the fairest decision. I just hoped the fact I was falling hard for Edward had nothing to do with it.

Saying our goodbyes, we went our separate ways, but I could barely see what way I was going. The noise in my head was loud, one thought the loudest:

_Stupid, idiotic, lovesick Bella._


	11. Mistakes and Consequences

**Author's note:**

**Questions have come up about Bella and Edward's age, and as to this story is about their first year in College or in Med School.**

**I'll admit, being from all the way on the other side of the pond, I didn't really plan the story taking into account the complexity of the American education system. And I apologize for it. However, I think – or rather hope - it doesn't detract from your experience to assume that they are, indeed, in their first year of med-school. Being, accordingly, both 22 years old. **

**A special thanks to ****darcy13**** for making me realize my mistake was a source of confusion.**

**On a different side note, this chapter has a very different feel than the others, or at least that's what I tried to convey. I hope you enjoy.**

The road was poorly lit ahead of us, which made the scenery unpleasant and eerie. I wasn't feeling quite like myself; the situation was strange, unexpected, and it was so ridiculously late, you could call it early.

I tried to snap out of my near-vegetative state; I would need to be as alert as possible.

Because the moment I'd been both hoping for and dreading had come; of all days, that Saturday night.

By my side, Jasper sensed I wasn't, at all, ok.

"We'll be there in ten minutes. You don't look so good; are you alright?"

I mused for a few seconds. What should I tell him? How much should I tell him? It seemed extremely inappropriate and selfish to go on talking about my problems in the situation at hand, so I kept my response to a satisfying minimum:

"I didn't get the job"

And there was so much more to say. But, as always the sensitive kind-hearted man, Jasper merely nodded in acknowledgment.

"If you want me too, I could take care of this and then drive back"

"That's sweet of you Jasper, but I have to deal with it. It wouldn't be fair, and, besides, you don't even know her. You're already doing too much as it is, driving me all the way up here"

Alice had called me, in the middle of the night, asking for help with the predicament she'd gotten herself into.

I wanted to be strong. I'd been taking care of myself for years, and I was an independent woman, capable of dealing with this and whatever came my way. Or, at least, that's what I chanted to myself in the dark car while flexing my fingers so they wouldn't freeze off.

Breathing deeply, I was able to hype myself just enough that what I encountered, when we arrived, was bearable.

The club's parking lot was full – which wasn't surprising on a Saturday night – but I was able to spot three people near the car crash quickly enough, under the bright neon light of the huge sign.

The side of my blue Camry was scratched and deformed; I did like my car, but in that moment I wished I'd just kept my old red truck after high school. At least, it would have had a better chance of surviving unscathed.

The other car – I believed it was an M3 - faired even worst. The back of it was extremely damaged, and the bumper had fallen off completely. I cringed, thinking about how much it would cost to fix.

Rubbing my face, I stepped closer to Alice and the couple, noticing several things immediately.

The gorgeous blonde woman was beyond aggravated and wouldn't stop talking about the repair time and cost, while the big burly man, which I assumed to be her boyfriend, was trying to calm her down and talk her into not calling the police.

I breathed a silent sigh of relief that they hadn't; because I could also see Alice wasn't sober, and her spending the night in jail wouldn't help.

The huge man was extremely intimidating, but seemed to be the most collected of the two. And having Jasper by my side was very comforting; he might not be as muscular, but was still tall and I believed he'd be able to hold his own in a fight.

I'd never been in one, but tonight, I wouldn't put past anything.

Approaching the tall man, I identified myself. "My name is Bella Swan; I'm the Camry's owner"

I'd studied my phrasing so they wouldn't think I'd come just to bail my friend out; this way, they could see I had a legitimate concern.

"Good morning", the man replied, in a deep voice. He seemed uncomfortable and upset. "I'm Emmett McCarthy and this is Rosalie Hale, the M3's owner." By now, the blonde woman was obviously fuming about the way he'd taken control of the situation, and all I could think was about how much I didn't want to be in his shoes. "Well, your friend was backing the car up, but probably didn't size up very well and ended up backing into our car. If you want to talk to her for a second… but I'm pretty sure she'll tell you the same thing"

I turned to see Alice sitting on the sidewalk with Jasper's help.

"I'm sure it was", I agreed, looking at the damage and position of the cars. Something in Emmett's tone let me know he, too, noticed Alice wasn't sober, and that made me see the whole thing a bit more clearly. This couple had just come out on a Saturday night to have some fun, and end up getting their great expensive car destroyed. He had been the one to not call the police; I didn't know if I'd been that cool with it myself. "I'm really sorry about this; Alice is usually a very responsible driver", «and a responsible person, but both seem to fail her now», I added internally. "I'll personally take on all the expenses that come with getting the car fixed, as well as any damage you might have from bringing it to the shop. Once again, I am deeply sorry about this"

The blonde woman – Rosalie - relaxed visibly, but kept her arms crossed over her designer dress. Emmett, however, lightened up as soon as the words left my mouth.

"Nah, it's fine. We can drive it to the shop ourselves; just let me have your information so we can get this mess sorted out"

I nodded, relieved. Thankfully, Alice had crashed into a nice person's car. Or, more precisely, someone with a nice boyfriend. Everything about Emmett projected playfulness while we exchanged phone numbers and such, and I almost couldn't believe I'd felt threatened by him mere minutes ago.

After scooping up Alice and get her in the passenger's seat of my car, Jasper vouched for me and gave his data too; I'd never be able to thank him enough for what he did that night, and felt a tug at my heart at the thought. Yet again, I'd made a friend around whom I could see myself grow older.

I apologized some more for something I truly didn't have anything to do with and got in my car; Jasper drove behind me.

The drive back was absolutely silent. Not a word. Alice was fidgety, playing with the hem of her skirt and top while looking through the window.

Not once did she look my way. Not once did she try to explain. Not so much as a thank you for coming to bail her out of this or sticking my neck out for her. Not one apology for wrecking my car after taking the keys and not even telling me.

Anger rose from within me, and I saw the scenery fly by, driving much faster than usual through the empty streets. I couldn't even think straight in my effort to not yell at her.

Once we were parked, Alice practically jumped out and I signaled Jasper everything was ok and he could go. She practically ran all the way to the dorm, but I didn't care.

She was going to explain this to me, right then, rather she felt like it or not. I had several weeks of pent up frustration and three hours of sleep in me; understandably, I wasn't in the mood to drop the issue.

As soon as I came in, she looked up at me from her bed. I was already wrapping my mind around all the things I wanted her to justify, at the time, but it all went blank in a second.

She averted her eyes from mine fast enough to give her whiplash, but it didn't matter. I'd seen what she was trying to hide.

She didn't smell of alcohol; while brooding in the car, I hadn't even taken notice on that detail. But, now, it made perfect sense.

Her pupils were dilated, red rimming her eyes. Even then, she continued to fidget, and now I knew why.

"Alice…", I whispered.

I stood there, in shock. I'd known her for years. I couldn't believe she'd taken drugs, and yet I'd just seen its effects, in more than one way.

A sob broke through her chest, and I was rendered useless. I didn't know what to do, that second. I was sure this wasn't a recurrent experience for her – I would have certainly known if she'd developed a… habit, but what would the best course of action be?

Yell at her for what she'd done? Embarrass her by calling her parents? Lecture her?

That's not what she needed. I still knew this girl, I just needed to reach out to her and understand.

So I willed all my judgments aside. This was Alice, and I wasn't her parent, or her doctor; I was her friend, and the one she needed right now.

So I sat beside her, and pulled her tiny frame so her head rested on my shoulder. She didn't shy way, wrapping her arms around me and crying out broken sobs for minutes straight.

"Alice… why? Just tell me what happened, what started all of this", I tried, after thinking she sounded somewhat calmer.

"I'm so… so sorry for this, Bella. God, I'm an idiot…", she finally said, her voice somewhat muffled by my sweater.

"It doesn't matter right now, just breathe. Here", I reached out to a bottle of water on top of her nightstand and gave it to her, "drink this, small sips at a time. You need to keep yourself hydrated"

She broke away from our hug, drinking while dry sobs erupted from her chest. I waited patiently and held her hand, trying to convey to her that it would be ok.

"I've been an idiot!", she shrieked, suddenly, and in any other situation I would have chuckled. "It was just, I needed an escape. I needed to just get out, break free, to not feel anything. Things just went array, and I knew there wasn't anyone who'd understand. You just have so many theories… I'm a failure"

I cut her off when she stopped making sense.

"Alice, all theories aside, just tell me what happened. I won't judge, I promise. I just missed you. I do miss you", I admitted, tears filling my eyes.

She nodded and sighed, collecting herself a bit more.

"This summer, I tried everything. I went through all of my sketches and photos of work I'd done and put together a portfolio with the best ones. And I sent it out to the magazines I envisioned myself working in one day, and even some I didn't; to some companies, too. Some didn't even answer, and none offered me an internship", she explained, tears silently welling down her face; it was, in many ways, sadder than her previous sobs.

"Why didn't you tell me this?", I asked. I didn't even know she'd been after a job.

"Because I always thought there was a possibility no one would accept me, and didn't want to see the disappointed look on your face. Bella, this is what I do. I don't excel at anything really, but I'm actually good when it comes to fashion, it's my thing. And I know you have these theories that, if you push yourself hard enough, and if you want it bad enough, you'll get it, but this isn't like that. You can't control everything! Or maybe you can, and I just failed miserably…"

She trailed off, shaking her head and wiping the tears away.

"You're not a failure", I stated, meeting her eyes. "These things just aren't based on talent, that you have plenty of, or effort for that matter. It's about catching a break and being persistent. Nothing defines who you are, especially not this. And fashion isn't the only thing you're good at, quite the contrary, but I think you should pursue it, if that's what you really want. And it won't be easy, but no one ever said it would be. Good things are worth fighting for. But what you did tonight… Alice, someone might have gotten hurt"

"I know", she interrupted me immediately, shaking her head, "It was so stupid of me. I swear, I'd never done this before… All those other nights, I just drank and took a cab back, or asked someone I knew from class for a ride…"

"I know you didn't think it through. We'll take care of it, I'm just glad nothing terrible happened", I answered, trying to soothe her, but scared about it myself.

"I'm sorry for taking your keys. Was that boy the one you're working with?", she asked suddenly, meaning Jasper.

"Oh, no, Jasper is from my Psychology class", I answered, watching as she lied down and closed her eyes, emotionally and physically exhausted. "You should sleep. Remember, drink water but don't gulp it down; it won't take long for it to be out of your system"

"Thank you. For everything", she whispered, turning over as I tucked her in.

I knew we still had a lot to talk about. I knew this night had left scars that would take some time to heal.

It still stung that she hadn't trust me to believe in her. Once upon a time, she'd given me confidence and support; now, I'd get to return the favor.

"You're welcome. It's my job, you know; as a best friend", I whispered, stealing a page from her own book. She smiled a little, quickly losing consciousness.

After making sure her breathing was even, I left her to sleep and sat down at my desk. My chest burned as I saw the day's first light. I felt so confused, so overwhelmed by the night, and I wished I could sleep it off, but I knew I wouldn't be able to.

I felt weak, fragile and broken. And I couldn't even find a good reason for it.


	12. The Warmth Of Green

**Author's note:**

**Very unlike the other chapters, this one starts almost immediately after the last one finished, time wise.**

**The building I describe below does not exist in Dartmouth, so, creative liberties were taken on that one, and hopefully you'll like it as a backdrop.**

**I hope you enjoy it, especially after last chapter's dark feel.**

I 'd given up on staying in the room, realizing I needed some air, if I wanted any chance of clearing my mind before Alice woke up; so, I left to walk around campus.

The grey morning was just as grim as the previous night, but you could see some students jogging or strolling, enjoying their Sunday.

Nothing changed in the world, even when you felt different. It was strange events and days like these that reminded you of how everything kept going forward, not waiting for you to catch up. You were either a part of that flow or lying broken at its side.

Alice had endangered herself, first of all. Twisted minds are known to prey on the defenseless, and hanging around clubs, under the influence of alcohol or any other drug, is the equivalent of a big bright bull's-eye on your forehead.

She tried to escape her reality somehow. But couldn't she see that the issues were still there? Only worsened by the way in which she chose - not - to deal with them?

In some ways, I was glad she crashed the car in the parking lot. She wasn't fit to drive, and I didn't even want to think about what could have happened if she'd made it to the open road.

My thoughts went in circles, and I realized that I'd have to be careful when dealing with these issues.

My phone came alive inside my pocket, and I retrieved it quickly. _Edward._

"Hello?", I answered, longing to hear his voice. I willed it to snap me away from my present mood.

"Good morning, Bella. Is everything alright? I got a missed call from last night; I just woke up and saw it…"

Oh, yes. When I couldn't find my keys the day before, and it dawned on me exactly whose car Alice had crashed in, his name was the first on my mind. But, since he didn't pick up, I ended up rising Jasper from bed.

"Everything's ok, it was just… There was an incident with Alice", I sighed, purposely using the word «incident» instead of «accident». "I'm just walking around campus… Want to join me?"

He deserved better than having to walk around with a mopping girl, but I still wish he'd come. I hadn't been in a good mood since Wednesday; this situation had just been the ridiculously thick icing on the cake.

"I'll be in front of the Botanical Studies Building in a few minutes"

I thanked him and hanged up; at least he sounded cheery. That made one of us.

I made my way to the meeting point, strangely calmer but still in my own emotional pit.

"You took your time"

I snapped my head back up, and instead of the cracks in the pavement I saw Edward; he was wearing a heavy great coat over a green shirt with dark pants and my favorite smile. And even in the darkest pit, I had to breathe in deeply – so I'd at least have an excuse to be staring at him and not talking.

"I'm sorry, I meant to get here sooner; I've got a lot on my mind", I answered, truthfully.

He frowned then, and turned to make his way around the building slowly, waiting for me to catch up. Confused as to where we were going, I followed; I'd probably follow him to wherever he'd want to go.

Still not saying a word, he led me to a massive greenhouse's entrance, humming softly.

"After you", he waved, after opening the feeble lock.

"I don't think we're supposed to be here…", I tried, taking a look inside. There were rows after rows of exotic looking plants, some of them hanging from the ceiling.

"It's ok, really. They support the Medical College, after all; this is where they conduct studies about genetics and some therapies too. We'd be… researching"

He smirked at the last word, and I found myself smiling a little too. I stepped in, wishing we wouldn't get caught, and made my way before him while taking my jacket off; it must have been several degrees warmer than outside. I noticed the little path narrowed before we moved over to a new section – the flowers – but nothing could have prepared me for it.

The little elliptical adjacency had clear glass walls from top to bottom, orchids perched up on the shelves that lined them, partially blocking the view of the surrounding woods.

Every single one of the delicate plants more entrancing than the next, I walked around noticing the rich colors – ranging from pure white to deep purple – and the enticing shapes. It took a while for me to be able to take my eyes off them.

In the middle of the room were just two benches, back to back, just like the ones all around campus; only these two seemed in much better shape. Edward was sitting on the one I faced, looking up at me, asking me silently to sit beside him.

"What happened last night?" he asked, as I came to sit close.

Sighing, I told him exactly what happened – since the moment I got on the phone with Jasper, frantically asking him for help, to the moment I'd laid Alice in bed, omitting only the nature of her state. That wasn't my story to tell, after all.

He seemed shocked for a little while, then shook his head and brought his hand up slowly, tracing my jaw and making me shiver ever so slightly.

I almost closed my eyes – and by beat up body would have welcomed it – but willed them to stay open. There was nothing in the world – not even the amazing scenery all around us – I'd ever want to look at as much as him.

Mesmerized, I reveled in his soft light touch, looking into his green eyes, seeing nothing but worry and some unnamed emotion swimming in them. Nothing but warmth that seeped into me, shocking my body alive, willing me to come closer still.

So I leaned into him, resting my head on his broad shoulder. His scent became overwhelming, and I swallowed in my effort to keep myself in check.

What could I say? That my walls were crumbling? Not really.

_What walls?_

I just kept studying his profile, the pronounced angle of his jaw and his full lips, while he looked ahead, seemingly disturbed; but somehow, I knew it wasn't due to the contact.

"I'm an idiot. I should have had my phone on… I'm so sorry, Bella"

In my slightly dazed and comfortable beyond belief state, I smiled a little at his apology.

"And why exactly is this your fault? You were sleeping, it's perfectly understandable. And I called Jasper out of impulse more than anything… My first reaction was to ask for help, but I suppose I could just have called a cab", I reasoned. "I'm the only one who needed to go up there, after all"

Edward sighed next to me, leaning a bit more closely and letting his fingers trace fiery paths on the back of my hand, back and forth.

"You shouldn't have to be that. That's what I'm sorry about; no one should have to stomach all of that. I know you can do it, I'm not questioning it, but I can't keep but wondering… You're the caretaker; who takes care of you?"

He locked eyes with me again, and I restrained myself from pointing out that Jasper had helped; I didn't want to inflate his guilt any further.

I'd been that girl all my life. I'd taken care of my mother, then Charlie, then Alice.

"It's what I do", I responded, not a shred of smugness in my voice. It positively sucked sometimes – like last night – but it also felt nice to know you were the one to get that call in the wee hours of the night. Most days. "Thanks for showing me this", I managed to breathe out, changing the topic to accompany my mood. "It's beautiful and quiet, just what I needed at the moment. You're amazing in every way"

I hadn't actually planned on saying that much – even if I did want to let him know how much I enjoyed his company. But, apparently, that was the light praise my burnt mind could come up with at the moment.

Being in his presence, it surely seemed as a severe understatement.

Of course, there were little details that I could now store away to remember; like the ever-so-light birthmark behind his left ear, or the gentle crease between his brows.

His mouth stretched in a smile – _just for me_ – and I felt a little embarrassed; after all, this was surely something he was used to hear.

"Yesterday, I waited in the pool for a while… but you didn't come. And you not-so-subtly avoided me the two days before that, so I just figured…"

He trailed off suggestively, and I winced. I did have a good excuse for being that upset, specifically after Wednesday – but I really didn't want to let him know. So, I decided not to say anything.

"I'm so sorry. I was just positive you'd get it, you more than deserved it…", he stated, enthusiastically, but I cut him off.

"It's fine, really. I'm over it. I'm sorry I avoided you; I guess I just needed some time to deal with it. This was just a straw in the haystack of opportunity, right?"

I asked him, trying to put the matter to rest. There was only one thing I needed to know.

"As long as you don't avoid me anymore… I mean, of course we won't be working, but we could maybe study together, if you'd like or even just…"

I knew from experience how articulated Edward truly was, and seeing him react in such a way was endearing.

"Let's do that", I agreed, taking my time in tracing the prominent veins of the back of his hand, now lying still over mine.

I didn't know how long we stayed there, just talking about anything and everything – never breaking apart from each other.

And I found that he was right; that morning, when I sat, feeling helpless, I truly had the weight of it all on my shoulders. His presence was the most benefic influence in my world, and feeling that, somehow, he enjoyed mine too, was an incredible boost to my ego. Even if I was sitting there after three hours of sleep, a hellish week and a seriously troubled roommate waiting for me.

I realized there was a part of me that was never taken into account. Because, even if I was the independent woman I always pushed myself to be, I still needed to be taken care of, from time to time.

I might not send out a cry for help in such a violent way as my best friend; but maybe I'd have to come to terms with the fact that there were moments I couldn't be that superwoman. There were moments when a broad shoulder was all I needed.

Around lunch hours, I realized I should be getting back; I didn't want Alice to wake up to an empty room, and it was probably for the best if I brought her food.

Feeling me becoming tense once again on the way back, Edward made plans with me for coffee the day after, before class, and I thanked whatever source of Nature created him. Anything would be much more bearable with something like that to look forward to.

I opened my room door, but the sight I came across was different than the expected.

Alice was sitting up in her bed, her hair all tousled and no makeup on – while Jasper sat at the desk chair, talking lowly with her.

"Bella", Alice chirped, not as much energy as usually.

"I thought I'd stop by to check on you girls…", Jasper justified, looking as if he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"It's fine, I'm glad you came; you're always welcome", I answered, feeling quite at peace with the world. "How about we order some pizza? I'm not really in the mood to go out today"

Alice agreed vividly, and Jasper nodded, stealing worried glances at my best friend. I made sure the order suited everyone and sat back with a pillow in hand, talking casually with the both of them.

Yes, there were issues. And they would be dealt with – I'd make sure of that – but we were all shaken up and in need of just a simple, static-free afternoon. Just happy bantering and silly stories about high school.

Or maybe it was just the fact that I now believed everything would turn out alright, one way or the other.

It could be that the source of my energy was a bronze-haired man. One with whom I'd experienced the warmth of green.


	13. War and Truce

**I'm sorry about the extra day before the update – had some trouble with my car yesterday, ended up not having the time.**

**I've been itching to get this chapter out! To all of you that missed Alice, I say, here you have it!**

**Soundtrack: **_**Bryn Christopher – The Quest / Switchfoot - Oh! Gravity**_

**[I'll eventually post the soundtrack for some chapters if I feel it's relevant to the overall mood]**

Thirty minutes, that's all I had. And I still needed a shower and getting dressed before leaving. _That's just great._

"I swear to you, woman, if you're not out of that bathroom in exactly thirty seconds I am peeing on your new boots!", I yelled to the door, huffing, my hands on my hips.

I had helped Alice picking them out, so I knew exactly how much she loved them – and how expensive they'd been.

Finally, she came out, frowning – and I did notice that, even though she was just as carefully put together as always, her outfit was low-key and even her makeup was natural and barely noticeable.

Her spiky hair, styled to perfection, stood in direct contrast with her appearance, but, as always, she looked the adorable pixie-like girl I loved. _Welcome back._

Moving past her, I jumped in the shower and decided on not pointing out the change. She was just probably getting acquainted with a more serious image – so the party girl thing would die down, as I knew it eventually would – and that was fine with me.

"What is it with you today? We've got plenty of time to get to class, you didn't have to threaten my leather goods…", she muttered, and I could hear things been thrown around the room.

_Oups_, she'd caught me. Both of us knew my morning routine took about ten minutes, and we still had a full hour before class.

I wondered idly if pretending as if I didn't hear her would work. Yes, it might; she'd probably get distracted going through scarves or something and leave it alone.

"Bella, did you hear me? What are you doing this fine Monday morning that takes such preparation?"

Crap.

"I'm having coffee with someone. You know, the guy I worked with", I answered, trying to sound dismissive.

"How's the job been, by the way?", she continued with her interrogation, and I knew I'd have a hard time getting out of this one.

I picked up on the note of sadness in her voice and sighed a little while applying my shampoo. I should have expected her to be guilty about not participating in my life for the past few weeks.

"We're actually not working together anymore. The faculty decided to choose one of us for the job, and make it official; you know, paid and all. He got it", I summed up, leaving a few very important details out.

Truth of the matter was, even if I did believe I did the right thing, I was a little bit ashamed. After all, I had a cold image and philosophy to live up to, even if it had been proven feeble, to say the least, over the course of the last days.

Still, I wasn't ready to give it up. It had been my mantra for a very long time, and I was still clinging to it for dear life; the day before had just been a particularly rough patch, but I'd get my life back on track.

I was going to be the calculating professional once more. Starting today; after coffee with Edward, that is.

"I'm so sorry, Bella", I heard Alice answer, snapping me out of my musings.

"How about you and Jasper? You guys seemed to get along", I asked, trying to get out of the conversation, but not just. After all, they did seem to feel at ease around each other, and were both majoring in Comparative Literature.

"He's great, I really liked him, actually… I see you've been busy with the opposite sex, lately"

And, just like that, she turned the conversation right back to me. If her smarts were ever to be put to foul use, the world would be hers in a week.

Washed up and ready, I left the bathroom and gasped.

Alice had laid down a completely different outfit than the one I'd planned on, complete with a pair of mid-heeled boots and matching brown bag, both impractical. My nice messenger bag was now in the trash, and I realized that was the shuffling I'd heard earlier.

"Is there any point in me fighting this?", I asked, knowing the answer.

"No. Tell me more about this guy; I'd expect you'd be pretty upset about not getting it", she mused, gauging my reactions carefully.

"And I was. I am. But it was a fair fight", if you didn't take into account the part when I sabotaged myself, "and there's nothing wrong about Edward", I answered, moving to dress myself.

Her face came alive with a big grin, and I knew I'd just shot my own foot.

"Edward, is it? How often do you see this Edward?", she continued prodding, asking, as always, the very questions I was trying to dodge.

"Well, we did work together, so it's perfectly normal for us to have met a few times. And he swims on Saturday mornings too", I added, hoping that piece of information would quench her curiosity.

"Oh, my", she replied, and before I could process that reaction, she added: "So you've taken a look at the goods, then? Nice!" and topped it off with a eyebrow wiggle.

I blushed furiously, as a reflex, and continued to dress myself. The worst part of it was it was true. But I'd grill before I'd fess up.

"No! You'd think that after years of implying things between me and males you'd give up! And he's in a league of his own, Alice"

Once again, I'd made a big mistake.

"So, you find him attractive, then? Yes, I perfectly recall you saying something about it…", she trailed off, her voice dripping with excitement.

I sighed, managing to get up in the boots and noticing that they were, in fact, quite comfortable.

"Yes, I do. But let's leave it at that", I begged, going out the door and accompanying Alice for a while.

Of course, I had to give her a detailed description of him – as much as that annoyed me. To cut our conversation short I ended up power-walking all the way to the building, forcing Alice to catch up.

She was just getting to part when I got coerced to describe our every meeting when we turned a corner and my building came into full view.

Leaning against the wall, by the doorway, he was already holding two steaming cups of – what I guessed to be – Cappuccino, carefully checking his watch.

I was absorbed enough to forget I should be controlling my reaction – or, more precisely, to forget I wasn't alone with him altogether.

But, of course, Alice wouldn't be ignored, and skipped the stairs before me.

"Hi!", she chirped, surprising him. Thankfully, his hands were stable – spilling coffee on Alice's outfit wouldn't have earned him a very good first impression. "I'm Bella's friend, Alice. She's told me a lot about you, I was wondering when we'd meet"

_Oh, you little…_

"Good morning", I followed, slightly embarrassed.

"Good morning. Nice to meet you, Alice", Edward replied, seemingly amused, flashing me a quick smile – my smile. "Bella has told me a lot about you too. You'll be joining us for coffee?", he asked, politely.

"Oh, no!", she immediately answered, waving him off. "We'll have plenty of opportunity to talk some other time, I'm sure. See you later, Bella"

And then she winked at me, right in front of him. _Real subtle, Alice_.

"She's definitely something", Edward laughed, handing me my coffee and brushing my hand – slowly and deliberately. I repressed a sigh.

"And this is her quiet self. You should see her in her hyped state", I answered, taking a sip.

"I can see why she's your best friend", he stated.

We continued to talk and entered the classroom early – to set up Edward's presentation. I was extremely curious to see what he'd pulled off, especially considering he'd only had two days. The teacher was already there, and waved us in.

"Good morning, Mr. Cullen, Miss Swan"

"Did you get my email yesterday, Sir?", Edward asked, walking off to the laptop.

"Yes, I did, and I must say, good work", Mr. Gaspard stated.

The pang of jealousy was expected, but never came; it was an awkward situation, sure, but I was proud of myself for handling it so well.

And, then, it all went to hell.

"I am, however, very displeased with you, Miss Swan. I was actually expecting more, it was a definite disappointment"

My heart sank, and I froze. I could have argued with him, but I couldn't. He'd just shattered the confidence I had in how good a student I was – not even looking up from his notes.

"How can you say that?!", Edward half shouted, stepping away from the laptop and towards the teacher.

I wasn't sure I had ever seen anyone so enraged.

His fists were balled up, and his biceps straining. His eyes were dark and narrowed, his lips slightly parted in disbelief – and looked just about ready to punch the lights out of the older man.

Mr. Gaspard, however, seemed completely unaffected, or unaware, of Edward's reaction.

"I'm merely stating the facts, Mr. Cullen. There was an opportunity – a time frame, if you will – for her to present her case and show me she should be the one to get it"

Was he sane? He couldn't be actually urging Edward further, could he?

Fortunately, Edward didn't have time to answer – or act on his inflamed temper – since the students started coming in for the lecture. I breathed a sigh of relief when he came to sit next to me, pinching the bridge of his nose, his other hand still balled up in a fist.

I'd been an idiot to freeze; I'd almost allowed him to throw away his new job, his future in college and his respected position among the faculty.

Of course, he was doing this because he didn't realize the teacher was right. He'd never know that I'd actually thought the same thing, but given up on it. And that made me feel even guiltier.

"Edward… Calm down, please", I murmured, my hands encasing his fist slowly, while gauging his reaction. I wasn't afraid of him – not in the slightest – but I didn't want to make him uncomfortable either, since we were in a very public situation.

He sighed before responding, but hid his eyes from me still.

"He's an idiot. I almost punched him, and he'd deserve it"

He glanced up then, giving a look of pure venom to the teacher, who stuttered while presenting the first frame.

"He would never be worth it, and you'd be punished for it to boot. You shouldn't lose your temper… Least of all, for me. I don't want to get you in trouble", I argued, trying to convince him.

"He's not worth it, you're right about that, and I do have a problem with my temper." He looked up then, and his green eyes were still cloudy, but were returning to their usual color. "But if I do end up losing it, you'd most certainly be worth it"

I smiled a little, and he smiled back half-heartedly until I gave his hand a gentle squeeze and turned back to the lecture.

"We can always egg his car", I suggested, and heard his muffled laugh beside me.

Later that day, I still couldn't believe what happened.

"He's not in danger of losing his job any time soon, that's for sure. Not with the scare he gave that slime ball, according to what you're telling me", Alice cackled, after listening to my account of the earlier events.

"And how was your day?", I asked, genuinely curious about her re-integration to the serious college life.

"It went well, but I seem to have missed tones of work already. I'll be locked away in this room most of the week", she frowned, taking a scoop of ice-cream and savoring it slowly. "You know you and Edward are a great hit among the student body, it appears"

My thoughts came to a screeching halt.

"What?!", I managed out.

"Oh, yes, apparently you're considered couple royalty. Nice going, by the way, you put his entire fan club pulling their hair by the roots"

_Fan club?!_

"Tell me you're kidding", I pleaded.

"I might be exaggerating a little", Alice laughed. "But there's some interesting gossip"

I turned that thought in my mind a few times before deciding on an appropriate answer.

"I enjoy being around him, and I know I can't call him a friend, quite frankly, but I'm just… Being myself and living through the day. If that happens to include him, then that makes me happy", I stated, truth ringing in my words.

Alice nodded and grinned.

"That's all I need to know"


	14. Waking Up

**Author's note:**

**A huge thank you to all my readers and reviewers! You blew me away with your response to the last chapter, and made me so happy!**

**Even sick and all, I tweaked this carefully and willed myself to update quickly – you deserve it!**

_**Soundtrack: Muse - Bliss**_

I shifted, since something was upsetting my comfort. In the haze of my sleeping mind, I found that my sheet was bunched up underneath me and I pulled it up with both my arms, raising my torso to do so.

Sighing, I turned on my side, resting my head on the pillow, ready to fall right back asleep, and shut my eyes.

That only lasted a split second.

I opened them right back up, as if to check I hadn't imagined anything.

No, my mind hadn't conjured it – or it might be conjuring the whole thing. I hoped for the later.

I got up, my bare feet landing on the cold floors, and I winced at the feeling. If this was a nightmare, it was extremely vivid.

Alice's bed was empty and made. And it was still dark out.

I opened my nightstand drawer, wanting to be wrong, but didn't find my keys in it.

_Damn it, Al._

I immediately picked up my phone – noticing it was little before seven – and called her, while pacing the room.

I couldn't believe it. I just couldn't. How could she do this _again_?

Fortunately, she picked up after the second ring.

"Alice?! Are you alright? Where are you?", I asked, frantically, losing the last shred of calm.

"I'm at the car shop… I came to get your Camry fixed. It was supposed to be a surprise", she answered, sounded a bit put out that I'd spoiled it. A few seconds after, she added: "You thought I'd been out again, didn't you?"

The instant relief that had taken over me was substituted with shame. I wasn't going to lie to her, though.

"I… woke up and saw the bed made, the keys missing… It was my first reaction, I didn't even… Think about it"

Well, that sounded great. My first instinct was to be distrustful. But, could Alice really blame me?

"I guess we need to talk more about what happened, Bella", she answered, hurt showing through her voice.

"I agree"

I didn't like it that things were this way. But it had been less than a week – I trusted myself to handle this better as time went by and I started to feel a bit more… reassured.

Maybe the damage my confidence in her had suffered was greater than I imagined.

"I'll see you when you get back tonight; oh, and, by the way, I'll be working on a paper until pretty late", she warned, and we both knew full well what she meant.

Alice and I had always been good students – but never actually accomplished any study together. To really absorb what I was reading, I needed absolute silence, but my best friend preferred loud pop music blasting through her stereo. Not that I could blame her; it was just another method, one that didn't work when it came to me.

Wrapping up the conversation, I went in the shower – since I was already awake – and got into my knee-length knit sweater, ready to face the morning's chill.

After grabbing coffee, I endured six hours in class – six extremely long hours which left my back muscles straining and my legs itching for some sort of movement. You'd think that, in medical school, they'd take into consideration that the human body wasn't designed to be in that position for that amount of time.

I mused that, if I ever did become a teacher, I'd encourage my students to move around. And take regular intervals for coffee.

And, just at the end of the torturous experience, the Biochemistry teacher crushed my spirits:

"Be ready for a quiz on Friday; chapters three through nine. Don't say I didn't warn you"

I heard a few groans and mumbles, but no one stood there, mouth agape, as I was.

That's when I realized how few of us were actually keeping up with the lectures.

It was _a lot_, especially two days away. And it was my first quiz, I didn't want to score poorly – even if I didn't believe I'd excel.

My standards plummeted about as much and as fast as my expectations of success. This wasn't, by any means, going to be easy.

Straitening myself up and walking to the library, it dawned on me; we were finally there.

I'd finally reached that point in my academic life when things started to get extreme. And I believed myself to be ready.

I walked through the rows of books, selecting three that could actually help, aside from the recommended manual. I had my own, but my dorm was out of the way.

I settled at one of the tables, taking my time to study thoroughly. An hour later, I checked my progress – twenty pages.

That wasn't good.

Having a little more than a hundred to go, I did the math quickly; even if I'd keep up my rhythm – which was unlikely as I got more tired – I wouldn't finish it by the time the library closed.

And that would give me only tomorrow, the day before. I never left things to study just the day before, that was suicide.

Groaning, I went back to it, trying to concentrate on what I was reading, absorbing it, making sense of it, and keeping myself in check time-wise.

Some time later, Edward came in, reminding me of why Wednesday had once been my favorite day of the week.

"Studying already?", he asked, his beautiful voice cutting through the burdened atmosphere.

"Biochemistry quiz on Friday. I'm not very optimistic, there are still tons to go", I explained, and our grimaces mirrored each other.

"Well, I'm glad I don't have to do that, because Gaspard gave me an intense work load. I'm just waiting for him to ask me to pick up his dry cleaning too", he answered, sitting down in front of me and wearing an undignified expression.

I gave him an empathetic look, both of us turning to our tasks, and kept trying to visualize the protein structures so it would be easier to remember them. Pilling up information wasn't difficult – anyone could do that – but I knew that understanding, even though much more consuming, was a better study method and produced better results in the long run.

Three hours later, defeated, I allowed my head to slump forward and connect with the wooden table.

"What's wrong?", Edward asked suddenly, breaking the silence we'd set. It was as if there was a switch between us – work mode and… the other – that could easily be turned on and off at will.

"I'm not even halfway through, and the library is closing in a few minutes", I answered, my voice muffled. "I'm so, so screwed"

"You don't like studying in your room?", he countered.

"Either Alice is still working, which means there's loud music involved, or she's asleep. Either way, I won't be able to get anything done, and if I get within fifty feet of cushy surface, I'm sleeping!"

I heard his light laugh, hushed because of where we were, and the shifting of papers. When I looked up, he'd organized my notes in a neat pile and was looking around.

"Go hide behind those bookcases over there, Bella", he urged, seemingly in a hurry. "Go now!"

Confused, I did as he told me, taking my jacket and bag with me. From behind the shelves, I saw the tall librarian walking to Edward – even if I couldn't hear what they were saying – and saw the taller man leaving, along with the remaining students and locking the door. After believing it was safe, I walked back to the table, the only one with the light still on.

Quiet enveloped us, thick as a cloak, and it dawned on me that we were locked here alone.

"Edward…?", I started, unsure of what was happening still.

"Assistant privileges, remember? They gave me a key", he explained, smiling sheepishly and showing me the small silver object in his hand.

I grinned wildly, understanding that he'd just lied for me.

"I'm finally collecting my prize, then. Thank you", I said, in a hushed voice still. We might be alone, but it was still a library.

He seemed to think about it for a second before remembering what I was talking about.

"Actually, I have alternative plans for that one. This is just the least I could do to help"

I tried to decipher the look in his eyes, to find some sort of clue as to what he had in store as an "alternative plan", but quickly concluded that I wouldn't get anything from him.

Relaxing, we both resumed work, and being carefree about my deadline meant I could actually concentrate much better on the subject at hand.

An immeasurable amount of time later, I stretched my arms over my head in victory – and to relax my aching back.

"I did it", I mumbled, gloriously happy. The next day I could review the chapters to make sure everything was covered. I was truly much more confident now.

And it was all thanks to Edward.

When I looked to his side of the table, I could see his belongings were gone – and suddenly became aware of his presence just beside me, his bag already packed, on the floor beside him.

How long had it been since he finished the Anatomy work?

How long had it been since he was looking at me this way?

His reddish hair, ever the mess, caught the low light of the lamp, as did his fair skin; but there was no comparison.

His eyes truly shimmered, alive in a game of light and shadows that left me completely defenseless.

He smiled ever so slightly – drawing my attention to his lips, pulling me closer, the way he only could.

"Bella…", he said, his voice caressing my name. I could feel his breath on my face – warm and inviting.

And I lost any glimpse of control I had ever possessed.

We both closed the distance between us – in response to the urge I saw in him, the urge that mirrored my own – before crushing our lips together.

My eyes instantly closed, and what a necessity it was.

The contact with his skin – soft, warm, and unexpectedly firm – made my own tingle, a strong shiver running through my back, a brief moan escaping me.

He moved his soft full lips with mine, our mouths parting, the contact increasing. I could taste him, sweet and spicy, and explore his warmth, lose myself in it, in the sensory overload of it all.

His arms enveloped my waste – my hands were already weaved through the mane of his hair, pulling him closer – and I moaned louder in sheer pleasure.

Tentatively, I traced his lips with my tongue, and it was his turn to moan, holding me closer and bringing our chests together.

We parted to breathe, and I nuzzled his face, my eyes still closed, wanting the moment to last. He kept his hands on the sides of my waste, running them up and down and scorching my already overheated body while we panted.

Only then did I open my eyes.

Edward locked me there immediately, under his spell, showing more than longing. Showing me, with no words ever necessary, the feelings that motivated what we'd just shared.

His green eyes showed such hope, such adoration; I was left in awe.

And, in a second, it came to me; a crushing wave of realization.

I wanted this so badly. And, yet, I could never have it.

"I can't do this", I breathed, and his hands fell from me. I could see the hurt in his green eyes as he pulled back a few inches – still recovering his breath – and I wished I could tell him I, too, was hurting.

Stifling a sob, I grabbed my things in a flash, as well as his key from over the table, and fled, stopping only to unlock the library's door.

What had I just done?

Just before leaving, I looked back – my eternal mistake – and saw him with his head down, resting on his hands.

Tears immediately started welling down my face.

I ran to my dorm, crying all the way while the wind cut through me.

I had just shared the single most pleasurable experience of my life with the one person I came to care about more than I could have ever phantom, and I was crushed.

Us becoming a couple went against every single thing I believed in. I had planned out my life, and agreed with myself that relationships were out of the question.

Truth be told, it had never been a challenge to follow this rule I'd set for myself. I'd never felt this way about anyone before.

I understood now why people left everything behind in response to this. I could see it now.

But I couldn't allow myself to do the same.

It hurt and tore me apart, especially after seeing that it did the same for him. For Edward.

The one man I had ever fallen in love with.

I sobbed, sinking on the steps of my dorm's entry, angry at myself and my logic.

I knew it could never last – that the concept of true, lasting love was nothing but an illusion – and that this passion, if followed through, would only eventually lead to heartache. To lost opportunities, regrets and sorrow.

How I wanted that to not be true! How I wanted us to be the exception – because I knew now, beyond any doubt, Edward felt the same. And that made it all the sweeter – that something this unbelievable was actually requited – and all the more bitter.

Because there were no exceptions in life; only in fiction.

And I'd swore to create myself a real life. I'd do it, if it meant hurting myself. And it did.

It was my fault we'd ever gotten this far, after all. It was my fault that I'd allowed myself to dream, blissfully ignoring all the warning signs his proximity involved.

Broken on those steps, I only wished I could have dreamed a while longer.


	15. Shift

**Author's note:**

**I know, I know… There was a logical build up to the last chapter, but I get why so many of you were frustrated with Bella's reaction.**

**I say, don't worry. There's a lot more to come.**

**I apologize profusely for the late update – I've been sick and my work load this week was just ridiculous. I've slept a total of five hours in two days – thank the heavens for caffeine.**

**I'll make it up to you guys with the next chapter! Enjoy!**

Alice was very much awake and aware when I came in, but I dodged her questions like a pro and went to bed, facing the wall, faking sleep. I didn't want to start a conversation when I knew I lacked the acting ability to lie to her.

I briefly felt sorry about thickening the wall that parted us, but everything was yet too raw; I was too emotional to talk about it.

So I just waited for her to fall asleep.

The moon was full that night, as I looked out the window to the spot where, just a couple of weeks back, Edward had been, a bag with breakfast in his hand, calling for me. The pale light showed me the contours of the gravel path we'd walked together, talking lightly, baring ourselves to each other, in a way. Baring our weakest, less defensive selves, instinctually knowing the other wouldn't hurt us.

We'd been wrong. He'd been wrong - to trust me.

My body felt frozen, which was eerily appropriate; I was killing myself, a part of me – stripping it, or rather trying, of the feelings I knew I shouldn't be having. The warmth I'd experienced, the life I'd seen in his eyes, which I was sure mine had reflected, still present but not allowed to manifest itself, to blossom.

Only it wasn't actually fair to mourn something you, yourself, killed. The guilt was crushing, physically constricting.

Lying on my back, I stared up at the ceiling, seeing nothing. The memory of Edward's hurt expression, of his stance when I was leaving the library…

I was a monster. I'd actually allowed this to happen, and a very twisted part of me was ecstatic about the kiss, even if the aftermath was excruciating.

I checked my phone, time and time again, but there was nothing; he hadn't texted me, or called.

Why should he? I was the one to turn my back on him.

His image fluttered in the air above me, his elbows on his knees, his head resting on his hands.

Sleep didn't come, at all. I just kept replaying it in my mind – it didn't matter if my eyes were open or closed.

I was a coward, and he deserved so much better; he deserved someone who could give him so much more.

Sighing, I got up and dressed – after the long sleepless night – and faced the annoyingly cheery crowd of college students to class.

Celular Biology. With Edward.

Only, when I was finally through with dragging myself there, nervous and anguished, I found only a note pinned to the door.

No class this morning. And even as disbelieving in all superstitions as any true woman of science, I still took it as a sign.

Maybe separation was, indeed, the best that could happen to us.

"It is not only of the utmost importance that you always consider the human being as a whole, with tastes, background and an individual personality, belief and value systems, but also that you consider your patient as being flawed, as every other human…", the Psychology teacher prattled on, in her high-pitched voice, adding to my physical discomfort in the awkward chair.

"What happened?", I heard Jasper ask, in the haze of my sleep deprived mind.

"I didn't see you", I stated, which wasn't much of a defense. Class had started a while ago, so that probably meant he'd been sitting next to me the whole time. It didn't help that all I could see were images from the night before.

I looked in his worried blue eyes, drowning out anything else. My friend's presence was soothing, and I knew he'd be less prone to yelling at me for what I'd done than Alice.

Still, there was only so much I could do to delay it. There would definitely be yelling in my future.

"I'll walk you back to your dorm after class", Jasper said, ever the kind man, and I nodded in agreement.

The walk was mostly silent, as everything around us seemed to be; the sky was a sickening shade of purple and grey, oppressive and charged.

"If Edward did anything to you, I'll have a word with him", Jasper finally said, addressing the subject. If I still had the spirit and energy and me, I'd laugh.

"Of course not. That's a lovely thought, and thank you, but actually it was me doing the hurting", I replied, and proceeded with a lightening-speed account of events.

When I finished, I took a peek at his expression – dying to know what he'd say. The look in his face had turned sad and sour, and I felt another stab of guilt.

"I really screwed up", I summed, not even waiting for him to say it.

"I think you should talk to him. Leaving things unsaid always hurts the most. Just let it out of your chest. If he doesn't see things the same way, then that's his prerogative, but at least you'd get it out of your system. And offer him an explanation of sorts, which I think you owe him", Jasper advised.

The coward in me felt like yelling at him for even suggesting it – sad and broken as I was – but I knew he was right. So I leaned into him for a surprisingly firm and reassuring hug, before walking up the steps to the dorm.

"Alice is going to grill me", I muttered, and heard Jasper's quiet laughter.

"Don't worry, I'll call her and schedule something, which will give you most of the afternoon. I was thinking about asking her out anyway"

I stopped and turned to face him, a stern expression in place – barely.

"You and my best friend, hum?", I asked, enjoying the sight of him sweating a little.

"What would you think of it?", he replied, and I could see he was serious, which surprised me.

"She's my sister. You better work on deserving her, or I'll have your balls in a jar"

Truly, could there be any other answer?

Still, I was at peace with the thought of them being around each other. Nothing bad could ever come of it – Alice would probably wear him out with all her energy, but I had a feeling his calm demeanor could help toning that down. Or so I hoped.

I reorganized my bookshelves, carefully filled away all my notes and tidied the room to perfection. When there was nothing left to do, nothing out of place, everything looked even more barren.

The Biochemistry book lied on top of everything, closed and accusing. I had no intentions of studying – even if I was stupid enough to believe my state of mind and body would ever allow me to.

The images of Edward's suffering kept replaying themselves, non-stop.

The caged-in feel increased, as if the sky, the walls, everything around me just got a little smaller.

And then everything shifted.

I dashed out of my room, and down from the dark skies rain poured.

Not small droplets propelled by the wind, swiveling around and chilling me; not that day.

It was as if a dam had finally broken, and the water crashed, thick and violent, washing away everything except the omnipresent smell of earth.

The first real rain of the year.

My own personal purge.

Before my newfound courage could falter, I made my way to his dorm.

I got there impossibly fast – which was probably due to the fact I hadn't even been paying attention to whatever was around me. I hadn't actually planned on what to say. But Jasper was right, I had to do it.

The oak door, stuffed in between the maroon painted plaster, mocked me, as I stood in front of it, my mind blank of any justifications. Nothing seemed good enough.

Because it wasn't.

If I didn't want this, if I never did want this, then I would have stopped it much sooner.

I could practically _see_ Edward saying that to me, venom in his eyes, and disgust in his expression – accurately resembling the one I'd seen when he defended me from Gaspard's judgments.

I could hear the hissed tone of his voice.

And, by all means, I'd agree with him. Because I couldn't deny that I'd wanted it – even knowing, in the back of my mind, I couldn't see it through.

I knocked on the door, softly, partially not wanting to disturb him and partially afraid of what he'd say.

A thin strip of yellow light appeared under the door, before I could hear a sequence of muffled sounds.

As the constricting weight in my chest reached a new peak, the door cracked open and Edward appeared, in a thin tight-fitting white sweater and dark sweat pants.

He didn't seem to have slept at all either.

"I'm sorry", I said, the words rushing themselves out of me, barely louder than a whisper. Surely enough in the dark afternoon's silence, since he was mere inches away. "It was wrong of me to leave, you deserve an explanation"

There. I was expecting him to close the door in my face any second.

Instead, Edward ran his hand through his coppery hair, closing his eyes and sighing, and opened the door further, facing the carpeted floors.

Too disgusted to even look me in the eyes. Guilt clawed at my chest, and I held back the tears that threatened to fall.

"Please, Bella, come in, you're dripping wet", he finally answered.

As his response sank in, I stepped in, and saw him shuffling through his drawers. He handed me something – but I wasn't paying any attention to it.

I could see no anger in him, no form of violent impulse as I'd seen before. Only sadness and disappointment written in his eyes, which in some ways hurt the most.

I took the clothes from his hands and went into the bathroom, where I tried to dry my hair as best as I could with a fluffy towel and got dressed. All the while thinking about what to say.

It would really help if I could make a decision on what I wanted.

Because I had only recently came to terms with the fact that what you want for yourself and what you just want, long for, in an irrational, innate way are two very different things. His smell, wafting away from the clothes he'd lent me, was a strong reminder of that reality.

I finally settled, both comforted and scared, with the notion that the decision would be in his hands.

Stepping out of the small bathroom, I remembered the last time I'd been in Edward's room, and smiled a little at my own recollection. It had also been a rainy night, and I'd strictly forbidden myself of undressing of any kind.

Breaking my own rules wasn't just scarily easy. As I took in Edward's stance sitting on the edge of the bed, I could feel how painfully pleasurable it truly was.

"I didn't know", he said, suddenly, snapping me out of my thoughts. "If I'd known, I wouldn't have pushed you. I'm the one who's sorry"

What was he talking about?

"I don't understand", I answered.

"I went to look for you today. And I saw you with a tall blonde man… I didn't know you were dating anyone. I should have talked, not just… act on impulse. You must think I'm a caveman, but I swear I'd never done anything of the sort. It's just hard to control myself when I'm near you", he explained, his voice hoarse all along.

The air rushed out of my lungs in a silent gasp. He'd seen me with Jasper – there could be no doubt about it – but that misunderstanding had been out of my control. Silent tears started falling down my face.

"I'm not dating anyone, Edward", I sighed, shivering slightly, and went to sit beside him. "That was Jasper, my friend, the one who helped me with Alice. We were just talking. There is no one else and there has never been. And if there was ever to be, it would be you… Only the way I perceive my life, the way I'd always planned it, never included a «we». I know I should have said something sooner, but in all honesty I never believed you saw me in that way. And, even though that's not an excuse… I have issues with control when it comes to you, too"

There was more to say, and I needed to apologize further, but it seemed my silent tears didn't go unnoticed anymore, as Edward pulled to his embrace and held me, hushing me softly.

"I understand"

His words cut through my stupor and the tears continued to fall, but out of relief. When I'd told Renee of my future plans, the same way I'd later tell Alice, the reaction was one and the same: shock, disbelief and disagreement.

Irony would have it that the one man who shook all my reasoning to its core was the one to truly understand and value it. So was his nature, not identical to mine, but surely compatible. Comprehending each other was a given, and I felt the first spark of joy in what seemed like a very long day.

Maybe we could make it through this. Maybe we could be friends.

Separation was no longer in our horizon. Nothing that definite and terrifying.

Friendship I could deal with. It would be torture – I could feel it now, sunk in his deep embrace, his muscular arms encasing me and molding my body to his own – but a sweet one at that.

I was smart enough to know a blessing when I saw it.

At one point I knew I shivered again, but conscience was quickly lost. All I felt like doing was sinking deeper and deeper into him, gloriously reveling in his presence, his company, his body, him.

Sleep crept, and blankets were tugged around me. When I opened my eyes to survey my surroundings, I saw we were under the covers, holding each other, and Edward was falling asleep as well.

Seeing his full lips – so red, slightly parted with his deep quiet breaths – and being that close to him was the sweetest torture of the worst possible kind.

_I'll take my punishment as the blessing it is_, I thought, sleep taking me.


	16. Bed Talk

**Author's note:**

**Pesky life is always getting in the way of writing… Thankfully, this is as much of a hobby as it is therapeutic, dealing with stress and issues.**

**Still, bear in mind I'd just finished a twelve hour shift in the hospital (shadowing a teacher) before putting the final tweaks on this chapter, so it might not be as… pristine as one would desire. Sorry!**

**I'll be happy to read your reviews when I wake up ******** Off to bed!**

**Soundtrack: **_**Coldplay – Shiver / Muse – Fillip/ Coldplay - Clocks**_

A loud noise was bothering me, and I tried shutting it out and continue to sleep as best as I could. Swallowing, I noticed how dry my mouth felt, and a vague thought about water crossed my mind.

Too far. Too hard. I needed sleep. Nothing ever felt as good as this.

But my throat burned and the loud noise wouldn't quit. I cracked one eye open to see a vast expanse of white cotton, and my breath caught.

It was Edward's soft shirt, covering his chest and leaving little to my imagination, even in the dim bluish light that the window allowed in.

We'd fallen completely asleep, snuggled against each other, our legs tangled up, and, for a few moments, that was the sole thought my mind could process.

I was too comfortable to even dream about stirring. I craned my neck in order to see Edward's face, and froze in wonder.

His hair had partially fallen to his eyes, the pale expanse of his long neck barely an inch away from my mouth.

And my heart soared at the sight of his lips tugged in a soft smile. We were sleeping together, and he was smiling _in my arms_. All reasoning couldn't have prepared me for the scream of joy I felt building in my chest.

As if I'd ever disturb this man.

So I snuggled back in his warmth, lulled by the gentle movement of his deep breaths and the rain, still pouring outside.

I must have fallen back asleep when the blaring noise returned.

"Make it stop", I muttered, pulling the soft warm covers up in an attempt to muffle it.

This time, Edward stirred softly, sighed and reinforced his hold on me, and I struggled against moaning at the sensation.

"It's yours", he said, his voice thick from sleep, nuzzling my hair.

I processed that for a few seconds and remembered my cell phone, still in my jeans' pocket, currently in the bathroom.

Sighing, I begrudgingly disentangled myself from Edward, who looked up at me, clad in his big t-shirt and shorts, with a pouty expression. It was enough for me to waver about getting up.

But I could hear the ringtone - Sugar Sugar by The Archies – and knew exactly who was on the other end.

Stepping into the dark bathroom, I wondered how long it had been since we were asleep. I picked up the phone, noticing my clothes were a little less damp, and tried to prepare myself for what was coming.

"Hello?", I tried, my voice coming out low and sleepy.

"Where have you been?! I've been worrying sick, Missy!", Alice shrieked on the other side, making me wince and turn down the volume on the phone.

"I'm alright… Everything's fine… What time is it?", I asked, trying to gauge just how deep in it I was.

"It's after two in the morning!"

Oh, wow. I'd shown up at Edward's door sometime in the middle of the afternoon, and we were just exhausted enough to have skipped two meals and sleep nearly twelve hours.

_I'd just slept half a day in his arms_, I thought to myself, unable to stop it.

"Bella, are you there?", Alice wondered, after the pause.

"Yes, yes, I'm here. Sorry", I replied quickly.

"Where is here, exactly?"

I walked back in the room to see Edward rubbing the sleep from his eyes, sitting up in bed, still under the warm covers. All I could think about doing was hang up and get back in bed, but that was out of the question, for the moment.

"I'm with Edward, in his room. We needed to work some things out", I explained, keeping it as simple as possible. He looked up to me with an appreciative expression.

"You guys have been talking until this hour in the night?", she asked, clearly probing for details.

"Well, not exactly", I answered, and cringed at the sound.

Alice was shrieking at, what I guessed to be, the top of her lungs. And now, our entire dorm probably knew it.

Edward, who undoubtedly heard, simply laughed in bed; he put his hand in front of his mouth, trying to muffle it, but I could see his shoulders shaking.

Glaring at him, I went to work on ending Alice's party.

"You shouldn't be getting excited, Alice, we're not dating"

"Why? I mean, you've obviously did it, what are you doing, just using the boy?", she asked, her tone as dry and unfaltering as if she was reading a recipe book.

"Alice!", I admonished, feeling my face grow warm. Edward rolled to the side of the bed, roaring in laughter, his hand on his stomach, which obviously meant he heard it too. "We did not _do it_, as you so crudely put it. We've just been… hanging out, that's all. We fell asleep eventually", I explained.

"Bummer. Well, another day, perhaps", she said, leaving me with my mouth agape. How could she ever be this confident when she knew exactly what I thought about relationships? "So, nothing happened then? Nothing that could have explained why you'd been crying before coming in yesterday?"

I studied Edward's face, suddenly serious, and saw curiosity there.

"I'm with him right now, I can't discuss it", I said, dodging two arrows with one move. "I'll…"

I was going to say I'd be home soon, but Edward mouthed the word «stay», and I'd be damned if I could help following the suggestion.

"It's a bit late; I'll probably get back in the morning. Sorry about worrying you." Edward gave me a winning smile. "So, how was the date with Jasper?"

Oh, yes. She was going to pay.

"It… Well, it wasn't… It was nice", she stammered, and I cracked my own smile. It was never easy talking about one's feelings and relationships; even more so due to the fact we'd never gone through this before.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow", I answered, showing her the way a protective and caring best friend _should_ act when it came to the other one's love interest.

"Don't make any plans for dinner; you're mine", she chirped before hanging up.

Edward patted the space beside him on the bed and drew the covers open, an invitation I gladly took; it would be tempting even if I hadn't been freezing myself off standing in that skimpy outfit in the middle of the cold room.

In the time it took me for take two steps and enter the bed, I considered what I should do. I wasn't exactly sure what the etiquette demanded when it came to sleeping with friends – he was no Alice. And I definitely did not feel the same way about him – the thought alone was ridiculous.

My skin was crawling, my body aching for his warmth, and as soon as his arms drew me close, I gave up fighting proximity.

Screw etiquette.

All I had to do was make sure I came across to him as nothing more than a friend. And that alone was difficult.

"Did I get you in trouble?", he answered, raking his fingers through my hair while I snuggled in his embrace.

"Not really; Alice can be a bit… over the top, but I can reel her in. I've got years of experience backing me up"

We smiled a little at each other, and I knew the elephant in the room wouldn't be ignored much longer. We'd said a lot of things that afternoon.

I'd said… a lot. Probably more than I should, but what was done was done. There was a strange sense of relief that came with pouring out my feelings to him.

Still, our situation was quite peculiar. I doubted there had ever been two people to confess what we had to one another, agreed to stay friends, and then, literally, sleep together.

Bringing myself to bring it up was, however, hard.

So I stayed sunken in his embrace, enjoying his soft caresses, a happy coward.

"Did you know you talk in your sleep?", Edward asked suddenly, his tone teasing.

I instantly froze, as he turned on the bedside lamp. This was going to be embarrassing.

"Yes, I do… I guess I've always done it; my mother used to say she'd know what was bothering me, even against my will", I offered, and swallowed. "What did I say, exactly?"

_Or, put in other words, how embarrassed should I really be?_

Edward, however, merely grinned and answered:

"I guess it was meant only for me to hear." I poked his side, which only made him chuckle. Then his voice grew a bit more serious as he asked "Should we talk about what happened earlier?"

Collecting myself, I agreed. This mattered a lot to me. He mattered a lot to me. More than what would be safe, but I believed we could adjust the boundaries.

"So, you want us to be friends", he simply stated, looking for confirmation.

"Yes… When you say I want to, I mean, I thought you'd want it too", I stammered, suddenly afraid.

It hadn't crossed my mind before, but he could refuse. I was still in danger of losing this, of losing him.

"Not exactly", Edward answered, his fingers still woven in my hair. "I respect the way you think, and I get where you're coming from. But your resolve won't last forever"

As his statement sunk, my eyebrows shot up, and I was sure my eyes were as wide as dinner plates. Had he just said he'd _wait_ for me to change my mind?

"That's a promise you can't make", I answered, shocked and hurt that he'd taken things so lightly.

"On the contrary. I'm a patient man, and I know what I want. This isn't a matter of going against your will, or disrespecting it in any way. It's safe to be with me, I can assure you I won't jump you… again", he cringed, almost making me smile against my own will.

"This isn't what I want. I don't want you to put your life on hold for something that won't happen", I countered. "There's a good woman out there who'd love you. Actually, there might be a few"

He smirked at my bitter statement, but the resolve I could see in his eyes never wavered.

"I have my own reasons to believe it will happen, one day", he answered, in a rather cryptic way, baffling me. "Like I said, I'm a patient man. And as for me putting my life on hold… It's my life; I'll do what I wish with it. The same way you're doing what you wish with yours"

I frowned at his logic, still stunned at how he was taking this, as if it was nothing at all. As if it wasn't a life changing decision to stand by someone he'd met a month ago. I wasn't allowed to process that, as Edward asked if I was hungry.

"Not really", I answered. "Maybe breakfast, in a few hours, before class." And then, as soon as the words left my mouth, the memory came to me, and I yelled: "Biochemistry!"

Edward just looked confused for a second before he, too, remembered: "You have the quiz today, don't you?"

I groaned, my shoulders slumping, and buried my face in the pillow.

"I didn't study yesterday. At all", I confessed, and felt the weight of the bed shifting, suddenly nothing by my side other than air.

I looked up to see Edward walking to the desk, looking for something. He returned with his Biochemistry book – same as mine – and handed it to me.

"Maybe you can review it now", he suggested.

"What about you? Don't you want to go back to sleep?", I asked.

"Not really, I'm not sleepy. Are you?"

"Yes", I answered honestly, and Edward chuckled.

"Maybe you can still get some sleep afterwards. It's still very early"

"And what will you be doing?", I asked, looking around.

"Maybe I'll play for a while. It's what I usually do, when I'm awake at night", he explained, walking around to grab his keyboard and headphones; afterwards, I could see he was having second thoughts about coming back to bed or use the desk, but I mimicked his gestures, drawing the covers open and patting the bed, which granted me a smile and some company.

With nothing but absolute silence to work in, I quickly went through the designated chapters, enjoying the feel of his firm thigh pressed to my own.

After finishing, I gently placed the book on the nightstand, not wanting to disturb Edward.

His long fingers glided with impressive agility through the keys, his eyes narrowed and focused on some spot in mid-air; he didn't need to look in order to play.

Sometimes his head would sway ever so slightly, and I'd never seen anyone as engrossed in anything before.

Alice had once said to me, I only held the key to my own world. The kind of concentration that meant shutting out my others senses and focus on just one thing.

This was an ability I trained mostly through swimming; but it had proven itself useful in school, as I was able to shut out everything and everyone during, for example, a test. The only thing I could see was the question; the only thing in my mind was the answer.

Simple truths; static-free.

Seeing Edward playing made me realize he, too, was able to reach that kind of state. Which was probably why he understood my need for quiet so well.

I still couldn't understand him, though. I was still shocked at his kindness and his… devotion, for the lack of a better word.

The way he was so sure I'd one day crumble frightened me. Because, if true, it would be at the cost of my life plan. And, if not, at the cost of losing him.

Sinking in the pillow, I made an attempt at turning in for a few more hours of rest.

As usual, I was nervous in the hours preceding a quiz. Uncommonly, though, it had nothing to do with said quiz.

Softly touching Edward's arm, I claimed his attention.

"Sorry", I muttered, seeing his stunned expression as he took his headphones off. "I can't sleep"

He smiled, and put one arm around me, effectively crushing me against his chest. It was a reassuring feeling – the safest place in my world – and I wrapped my arms around his waist.

"Let's see if this helps"

Unplugging the headphones, he adjusted a few buttons before starting to play. As soon as the first chords of Clocks by Coldplay filled the air, my grin must have resembled a Cheshire cat's.

"It's one of my favorite songs", I answered, and shamelessly nuzzling his chest, wishing his neck wasn't off limits. "Thank you", I added for good measure.

He played beautifully, and after a few songs I could feel my eyelids drooping.

The last movement I perceived was when his arm stretched over me to turn off the bedside lamp.

And I wished, carelessly perhaps, this wouldn't be out last night together.


	17. Party of Four

**Author's note:**

**Thanks again for all your reviews, people… You really have no idea what it means to me.**

**Different kind of chapter – by now, you know I like to mix things up. And I'll make a real effort to have the next chapter up during the weekend.**

**Hope you enjoy it!**

**Soundtrack: **_**Switchfoot – Gone / Snow Patrol – Take Back the City**_

The place I found myself in, with makeup and a nice dress on, was nothing short of classy and romantic, by all the usual standards. All around me were couples in little rectangular tables – all the men wearing ties and all the women in pumps. I had to really look around to find some variety – an older couple with a well-behaving child, and a party of businessman out to celebrate some sort of accomplishment.

Overall, a terrible restaurant.

The lights were too low for me to clearly distinguish my fork, let alone what was in my plate, and the music must have been from the «Elevator Tunes CD».

"I should have picked, tonight", I stated, with a much more casual place in mind.

"That would be no fun; let's enjoy it, make it different. I'm trying to make up for some things here", Alice replied, happily eating her salad.

"So, this isn't about examining my relationship with Edward at all, is it?"

I decided to tackle the subject, since I was feeling rather bold. My day had been nothing short of wonderful.

After waking up next to Edward – an experience that warmed my heart and body at the mere memory – we'd fled his room in time for a quick breakfast and a trip to my dorm. And early enough for me to avoid the walk of shame.

The Biochemistry quiz hadn't even been that scary – and my confidence was restored. I felt prepared to conquer anything.

"So what did you guys talk about?", Alice asked, and gave me her best «I will take the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth» look.

"That night, when I came home crying…", I started, but then took a pause to pay attention to my food and avoid her gaze, like the coward I still felt when it came to those events. "We kissed. The both of us, before you ask. And I freaked out, picked up my things and ran all the way back to the dorm"

"Oh, Bella…", I heard Alice's strangled sigh, but kept going as if she hadn't said anything.

It mattered that she knew. Not only did I need to vent, I wanted her to feel like a part of my life, the big, important corner stone I knew she was.

So, with that in mind, I kept it together.

"The next day, he came to look for me and found me with Jasper", I explained, and when I looked up Alice was wearing a strange look. "Talking", I added, before I'd have to deal with yet another jealousy motivated issue. "So, he thought I'd run because I was dating… Which is ridiculous, that's what I told him, and we ended up… Falling sleep"

That was roughly it.

Explaining her exactly what it felt like to be wrapped up in _him_ wouldn't help my case, so I made my peace with committing those feelings and sensations to memory.

"Where does that leave things?"

That was simple enough to answer.

"As friends, even though we both know there are… other feelings there. We're choosing to ignore them"

Or rather_ I_ was choosing to ignore them, to the best of my abilities.

There would be no shrieking now, I could say that much without even looking at her. We both knew just how scared I felt, and the last thing I needed was for her to be all over the place.

For once, that would be my part.

I looked up, looking for reassurance, and Alice didn't fail me. Leaning over the table, she squeezed my hand, and I managed a faint smile.

"So, that's it for you guys?", she asked, a sorrowful expression. "I can't believe it, he seemed so committed"

"He is!", I answered. "He actually said he'd wait…", I started to explain, but then it hit me. "What do you mean, _he seemed committed_? Did you guys talk?"

I had the answer in nanoseconds. Alice was a master at a lot of things, but controlling her emotions wasn't one of them. Especially to someone as versed in her reactions as me.

Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly, and her back stiffened; her defenses came to life.

Yes. They had talked.

"Spill", I spat out, ripping my hand from under hers, my temper showing through.

Another thing beyond Alice's grasp was the concept of butting out of her friend's business, namely mine. And this seemed to be yet again proof of that concept.

"It was nothing… He came to look for you yesterday morning, since you didn't have class together", she muttered, her expression wary. "And we talked a little"

"Can you enlighten me as to what that conversation was about?", I asked, my tone frigid. Of course, Alice's and Edward's common link of interest was one and only, and I had my suspicions that my best friend was more than happy to feed whatever shred of hope of a future relationship.

That would have accounted for both her and Edward's confidence in my future failure to keep up my walls.

"That is between me and him", she carefully answered, and I felt myself get ready to pounce. "I'm sorry, Bella, but I consider him a friend, and I can't very well just betray that, now can I?"

_You had no problems with betraying me_, I thought, quite dramatically.

Sighing, I decided to write it off. It was just Alice being Alice, and I loved her for it. I'd always had.

"Okay, let's move on then. But I'll have you know I want to be well informed as of now on. Sneaking behind my back is not acceptable. We can't keep things from each other", I stated.

Yet again, I could see her getting defensive, and braced myself for impact.

"Well, having that spirit in mind, then I guess I should confess why I brought you here today…", she started, tentatively, gauging my reaction. I tried to keep myself as blank as possible, but my palm was starting to hurt from the rigid grip I had on my dinner knife. "I invited Rosalie and Emmett to come and join us for drinks"

The people whose car she'd smashed?

"Why?", I asked, relaxing, and carefully taking a bite of my risotto. My fear had been related to what lengths Alice might have gone to get me and Edward together.

The idea of seeing him enter the dim restaurant in a tuxedo had seemed preposterous and embarrassing thirty seconds before, but I had to admit, having that possibility denied felt a little disappointing.

"It doesn't feel right", Alice's reply came, in a little voice, and the mood shifted. "What I did that night… I've been having nightmares ever since"

Of course, I knew she had been deeply affected by the incident, but it was still hard to see her crack. I was so used to seeing her as a bundle of energy and joy that it cut through the heart. There was just something fundamentally wrong about her feeling pain.

"Why were you searching for a job?", I asked, wanting to get to the bottom of it. "Do you need money?"

That hadn't crossed my mind – particularly since her family was well off, more so than my own. I could afford a fairly comfortable college experience mainly due to Charlie's savings and mine, from all the little jobs I took.

"No, that's not it. But you know I wasn't exactly planning on coming to Dartmouth", she said, and I merely nodded.

It was no surprise. Her interest had always been Design, and she would have been happy with pursuing it, but her parents wanted different. That's how Alice had come to be with me, majoring in Comparative Literature, which interested her, but not in a passionate way.

"I actually did plan on not coming", Alice continued, cutting off my thoughts, "I thought that, by taking an impressive job somewhere, I'd show them I was good, and then this whole majoring in an prestigious college thing would just die down. What I wasn't expecting was for my parents to be right. I do need to be doing this. I need to be doing something, because I'm obviously not as talented as I believed I was"

It cut through me to hear.

"Your parents… They just don't get you", I stated, and it was true. "And their opinion of you shouldn't seep into your self-image. You know just how messed up they are, and you could have become the first female president of the United States, they would still criticize you. And try to put you down"

I didn't even like remembering Mr. and Mrs. Brandon. They were both sour, complex people, wallowing in their own webs of misery, cut off from even their next door neighbors, who couldn't even stand each other. Alice herself had told me many times that the glue that held the family together was social appearance, and it pained me to watch. Every time I walked into her pretty house, I could almost see and smell the rotting taking place.

Only this glum couple had Alice for a daughter – curious, alive, expressive, attention and affection starved – and the more they tried to convert her into the cold model child, by their own patterns, the more she rebelled.

Charlie adored her, of course, and our door was always open. It said a lot about my father's gullibility that he never once wondered why all the sleepovers were always at our house, whereas Alice lived on a three story mansion.

Sleepover was just a code for the nights when things got so ugly she had to leave and needed shelter – even if, thankfully, it had never gotten physical, or we would have told Charlie. And, of course, we could always count on her parent's fear of tarnishing their public image to ensure she'd be left alone.

"That's probably true", she answered, smiling sheepishly, "since we don't even share our political views. But, still, I could have dealt better with this. I'm actually enjoying my major. If I'd just stopped battling for something in Design and came willingly…"

"Don't even go there", I immediately cut her. This was typical Alice. She was extremely smart about detecting other people week spots, but her own were painfully apparent. "The fact that you're actually here is concession enough. You have every right to want to go into Design. And you will, I know it. It might not be one of your famous hunches, but I still do"

I got a faint smile out of her, and a brief one at that.

"I messed up, Bella. I messed up, and even though I'm physically fine, and no real harm came of it, this will always be there, won't it? In the back of my mind"

I shook my head in disbelief.

"You are not the mistake you made. You are the same wonderful girl I've always loved, and nothing can change or blemish that. Someone once told me, every fool makes mistakes; you can tell a smart man for the way he deals with it. Just look at you, Alice. You made a mistake, yes, but here you are, inviting this couple for drinks, taking my car to get fixed… And I'm sorry about the way I reacted the other morning. I shouldn't have assumed the worst, but the protective idiot in me tends to come out and tango every now and then"

This got a giggle out of her, but there was still one last thing weighing her down.

"Jasper saw me like that, that night… If we had met under different circumstances, he'd might think better of me", she let out, and I understood her frustrations.

"That's not who he is", I assured her. "He's an understanding man, and if he's lucky enough to have caught your eye, than good for the both of you. He just saw you in a vulnerable mood. You've seen me down before, that hasn't stopped you from loving me", I pouted, but then proceeded more seriously. "Just think about it; would Jasper really have asked you out if seeing you like that freaked him out that bad?"

Alice seemed to turn this over in her spiky pitch black-haired head for a second.

"That's just it, I don't know. It's hard to tell what his intentions are for sure, because of how we met. But I really like him"

I grinned at her, and got a hesitant smile back.

Our plates had long since been whisked away, and we were glancing around, hoping to catch the waiter and order desert – both of us feeling indulgent – when I spotted a large man dressed in a semi-formal sports coat, arm locked with a blonde.

"Your guests have arrived", I informed, and Alice merely winked before claiming their attention.

She'd be in their short list for maid of honor in less than half an hour, I was sure.

We exchanged pleasantries – doing the little «I wonder where you bought that bag» female dance – and asked for two drinks and desert.

I joined the conversation with interest – a habit I'd picked up with Alice – and soon enough was able to relax, even with Rosalie's gelid personality. Still, I was very much aware of the fact that they were probably two of the most stunning people I'd ever met.

Once again, I wish Edward had been there. With him by my side, I would have felt much more confident.

Crushing that thought process, I savored my rich chocolate mousse and noticed Emmett's uncomfortable shifting.

A peaceful silence had descended upon the table.

Alice was busy trying to spot the waiter for more drinks and Rosalie was ogling a young couple with a small baby, no more than six months old.

"Look at those little hands", she crooned, and I made an effort to keep my mouth closed. Her icy composure melted completely at the sight of that child; that was the first sign I'd ever been given that there were more layers to Rosalie than met the eye. My difficulty in seeing them could easily be attributed to her… Distracting outer layer.

And, then, the statuesque blonde turned to Emmett:

"I can't wait to have one of our own"

Oh, boy. The shifting had evolved to a nervous twitching that could very well be confused with a seizure. I could see the beads of sweat on the big man's head, the slight panic in his eyes.

Apparently, no matter how large or toned you were, there was always something that scared the life out of you.

"Are you guys thinking about getting married?", Alice asked, and I thought I saw Emmett relax a little bit.

"It can wait", Rosalie said, and turned to ogle some more at the small child. "But the biological clock keeps ticking"

Again, her boyfriend acted as if the clock was ticking towards his own death.

Taking a breath, I filled myself with courage. If it hadn't been for Emmett's hold on Rosalie, Alice could very well have been arrested. I had a huge debt to repay him. And I intended to pay it fully, right then.

"Well, yes, but you're extremely young… There's plenty of time. With the excellent medical care there is today, having a child in your mid thirties is practically the same as if it were your twenties", I tried.

«If looks could kill» was the only thing in my mind when Rosalie locked her piercing blue eyes with my own. Still, I considered my job done; Emmett looked relieved.

"If you're sure of what you want… Then there's no point in waiting", she insisted, a definite edge to her voice. "You do want to become a mother yourself one day, right?"

I could see Alice's hand freeze mid air while reaching for her glass in my peripheral vision, and something dark within me stirred.

"No, I'm not planning on doing so, no", I stated, as calmly as possible, but defiance still showed through.

Emmett gave a small look – of curiosity, and something, maybe respect? – before turning his eyes to his fiancé.

"So, you're just going to grow old and alone?", Rosalie sneered, and I'd have enough. I was about to make it clear for her just what I thought of narrow-minded women such as herself, when I was cut off.

"Rose, that was just plain rude. You should apologize"

Emmett's voice was decisive, and I admired him for the courage he, too, showed. It would be harder on him, though; I didn't have to see her ever again, if I so decided.

He lived with her.

Of course, the apology never came; instead, all I caught was a whirlwind of blonde hair and the sound of stilettos hitting the ground before she was gone from my sight.

"I'll deal with her…", Emmett said, with an annoyed expression. "Sorry about killing your evening, girls. It was nice meeting you"

And, with that, he too turned back. I did not envy his fate in the slightest.

"That went well", Alice frowned, downing a large spoonful of cheesecake.


	18. Patient

**Author's note:**

**Just like I promissed - a speedy update! This chapter really means a lot to me. I'm happy to get it out of my system - finally. It's the biggest one I've written by far, and one of my very favorites.**

**So, enjoy! And have a great weekend!**

All humans have something in common. It used to be two things – but their moment of creation, so to speak, could now be controlled by science, and the concept itself is different.

But, still, part of their nature is the same.

The unchangeable fact that every single human is slowly dying – and the full knowledge that this end is nearing – that's something we all share.

We're not the only creatures that suffer through it, but, as far as we know, we're the only ones who experience it in such a way.

And maybe that's why we hold life as the ultimate value. Because to go against it is shortening what's already short – or somehow tainting something that's already heading into the darkness.

Or light. If you believe in it, as everyone is entitled to do; search out their own explanations for our feeble and short existence.

It would be a sad day when those answers stopped being searched. That's probably why they'll never be found.

If life is the ultimate value – than what's the ultimate currency?

_Time._

Much like anything else we so desperately try to grasp, it slips away from us at a steady pace, changing nothing and all. And buying someone's time isn't cheap – according to whom it may be.

It strikes as an injustice – but some people's time is more valuable than others. An hour at the Psychiatrist's office can be extremely expensive – twenty times the amount a waitress earns.

How much is an M.D.'s hour worth?

I wouldn't put a price tag on it.

One hour could be spent saving a life; and a good M.D. would work that hour for no pay at all.

One hour could be spent listening to someone's last words, last breath and heartbeat. Telling that someone's family that they're out of time to be together.

That such a precious resource is finally over.

And you might have to spend hours like this every working day of your life.

You put a price tag on that.

Something very few people knew about me was just how much I once had enjoyed volunteer work.

If I had to be honest, it wasn't all for the sake of those who I was helping – even if I believed that was the main reason, at the very core of my actions. Doing it also allowed me to hang around the hospital in Forks, and as the staff began to recognize me, I was privileged enough to witness some simple procedures.

They even nicknamed me «their future colleague», amused by my eagerness to learn.

Still, I began wondering if there was something wrong with me.

I cared for those around me, I really did, but frequently found myself wrapped up in with their clinical issues more so than what they actually meant for them. Their suffering, their pain.

The days when I came and found a familiar bed empty, its previous occupant's time coming to a stop, there was always the dismay that crept in, but I never cried. It was never personal, in a way. It was as if I was being forced to admit defeat, as terrible as it may sound.

I actually thought, at one point, it was merely fitting; a mental disposition that somehow made me a better prototype of a physician, until I found that the doctors and nurses cried too, occasionally. Only the very aged and very experienced dealt with it as lightly as me.

And I couldn't help but think that this was proof something was wrong.

That was, until I met Peter, my junior year in high school.

In a town as small as Forks, the pathologies were few and repetitive, so it was with great curiosity that I saw the containing room occupied for the very first time. Having no access to charts, I tried to get the nurse to allow me in, but was met with a strong advice.

"You really shouldn't go in there, dear. Even with all the protocols to avoid contamination… The boy's immune system is greatly depressed, and he's already sick. The doctors are doing their best to see if he can live through it"

Still, day after day, I walked by the clear walls of the room and saw him. A small boy, maybe ten or eleven, playing with a video game or watching TV, looking weak and bored.

And it felt different somehow, when it came to him. I took an interest and got every bit of information I could, feeling exasperated for not being able to help. That was when I discovered he was going through this completely alone; not even the nurses went in willingly.

Because he had HIV.

Of course it was both unethical and idiotic, since, as any health care professional should know, HIV's transmission is based on blood contact.

Which meant that, apart from the absolutely necessary care, he was always alone. In a cubic plastic bubble, far away from any human warmth.

So, I feverishly did my research in protocol, the image of the little brown haired boy never leaving my mind. I didn't know what I'd do, at that point, if I didn't get allowed in, but I knew I had to try.

I annoyed the hell out of some doctors and even hospital administrators, which pretty much shot my reputation as a volunteer, but I didn't care.

The first day I visited, I spent nearly forty-five minutes getting ready, under the nurses' supervision.

As soon as I entered the different atmosphere, the boy looked up, curious. I remember him asking who I was, and I answered with my name.

"You're too young to be a nurse or a doctor", he observed. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here just to see you for a while, if you'd like. What do you like to do?", I asked, and he grimaced down at the video game he was probably tired of and the football he couldn't play with.

"I like comic books, but they won't allow them in. I'm Peter, by the way"

And that's how I ended up supplying him with whatever he asked, in order to make him more comfortable. I quickly became well versed in his favorite super hero – Spiderman – and had to be extra careful to make sure everything was new and wrapped before entering the sterilized environment.

We'd just talk and read and hang out for hours. And I'd come every day.

Every time I went through the door, his smile was bigger.

Every time I went through the door, his breathing was raspier and more strangled.

One day, in mid January, the dead of winter, I came in the room with a couple of new DVDs, but found him sulking in bed. An oxygen mask was now necessary, after what the nurse described as a terrible coughing fit in the middle of the night.

Pale and obviously sad, he still gave me my smile. And I told him about high school and all the work I had yet to do; he liked when I did that. I thought it made him feel like I respected him enough to bring up more serious subjects.

"My parents did this to me, you know", he stated, out of the blue, in a raspy whisper. "I heard one of the nurses saying it when she thought I was asleep. You think it's true?"

By now, I knew he was being raised by an older aunt, so I knew that, one way or another, his parents were out of the picture. And, when it came to children as small as him, the plausible cause was transmission through the mother.

Which was preventable. But what would it help for me to try to explain it? He was only ten years old. He didn't need to find out just how cruel the world was just yet. He was suffering through enough.

"I'm sure they would have never hurt you on purpose", I answered, and he seemed satisfied with the answer.

We had a pact. It clearly stated that, once he was out of the hospital, I'd teach him how to swim. And he made me reinforce it that day, and I did, leaving only after he fell asleep.

It snowed that night, and the next morning I decided to stay home after school. Still, I called to check up on his status.

Only to find out he'd died during the night, the pneumonia finally claiming him.

My world broke at that moment, and I sunk against my old kitchen wall, only pain, lacerating pain, making it impossible for me to think.

His diagnosis had been clear all along.

I knew just how slim his chances were and how badly he'd progressed. I'd always known.

A typical case, by all patterns. Nothing that held any true interest, clinically.

I didn't give a damn.

He wasn't a patient. He was a friend. He was someone I'd tied myself to, I'd made promises to, that I had the privilege to know. Just a little boy, too young. Much too young.

And all the statistics and certainties couldn't have prepared for the shock of it. After all, I'd hoped until the very end.

Of course, that was then. But I still believed it to be imprinted in me pretty badly.

Making my way to the swimming complex, I wondered exactly why I had dreamed about it, after all that time, even if it wasn't that hard to figure out.

I could blame it on Rosalie, easily. She'd brought up the untouchable subject.

Children.

It was quite funny that, even though we were close enough in age for him to be my brother, I never thought of him that way. Maybe due to his frail state, my maternal instincts first came alive in Peter's presence.

The yearning for a child. My own, for me to love, raise and support. Unconditionally.

And whenever I pictured that child, he oddly resembled Peter. I'd dreamed about it constantly, for months straight after his death.

Me encasing the small baby in my arms, our matching brown hair.

And then, a swarm of angry mothers would come over me, accusing me of being responsible for his illness. Of not loving him enough.

Thinking back to my childhood, I knew I hadn't had any good parenting role model. My mother and I had an inverse relationship – me caring for her – and my dad and I only came to really co-exist after I was old enough to care for myself. So, that pretty much summed up my insecurities when it came to the subject.

Even if I believed I'd find a place for him or her in my life, I was too afraid to consider it.

This wasn't some kind of project you invested in, that could go right or wrong.

This was another human being's life, and I did not take it lightly.

I found solace in the concept of, perhaps one day, adopting an older child, whose problems I could work with and make better. Or so I hoped.

I did not agree with Rosalie's perspective, but I did respect and understand it. I would have probably reacted better if this wasn't an old wound of mine.

Feeling the need to shake off those thoughts, I breathed a lungful of cold air. There was absolutely no point in me ruining my Saturday morning by stirring up those ghosts.

The rest of the way I thought of Alice, getting up at the same time as me, glaring at the amount of work that awaited her. Yet another week we'd be skipping our traditional routine of brunch and shopping, since she would probably be working Sunday too.

I let the warm shower water cascade down my back, washing away the last remainders of tension from my nightmares and brooding.

Just knowing I was so close to enter the water was calming. My body was begging me for it, especially after a two week's break.

And so I indulged, greedily crashing through the water, enjoying my silence while I could. It had been a very hectic, strange week. I was looking forward to things being stable again. Uncomplicated. Just as free of static as the lengths I swam, one after another.

I counted twenty lengths, and finally decided to take a break against the pool wall. My goggles weren't really necessary, more of a habit; so, I took them off while I panted, trying to stabilize my breathing and heart rhythm, giving my body some rest.

But I still wasn't comfortable; my rubber cap was partially glued to the back of my neck, pulling my hair as I moved.

Well, that wasn't acceptable. This was my moment _not_ to be uncomfortable. I didn't care if, out in the streets, I was just another woman. Here, I felt amazing.

I remembered Edward's suggestion about breaking rules. Lately, I had broken one too many, but didn't find it in me to care.

I had enjoyed every single one of those exceptions. The most reckless of them all being the most enjoyable – the kiss.

Thinking of it made me realize I'd pushed boundaries far worse than the pool's maintenance rules. So I peeled the damn thing off, feeling my brown locks loosen, and sighed in contentment.

Ready to resume my stress relieving session, I climbed out of the pool and stood at one of the blocks, reading myself to jump.

Just as I was about to assume the position, I caught a flash of someone entering the complex.

Not good. If I did get caught, they could ban me.

Before my mind could wander down crazier paths – like asking Alice to use her identity card and die my hair black – I straightened myself up again, looking to see who it was.

It took me a fraction of a second to recognize him, and I could feel a lazy smile stretching over my lips. There was just no escaping Edward; we'd find each other every time.

And that was fine with me. I was done trying to avoid him. Having it out in the clear just made it easier; no lies, no issues. We could be friends and I'd happily enjoy his company.

I waited for him to put his towel down – taking my time ogling him – and notice me, before giving him a small wave and diving.

I might have shown off a little bit, but I knew he'd appreciate my skills. So, I graciously made my turn and came back all the while expecting to feel some ripple indicating his presence, but couldn't detect any.

So, when I came back to my starting point, I emerged and looked around. But didn't find him.

I was about to climb, once again, out of the pool, and see if he'd left, when I felt it.

The water was being disturbed down at my feet, and quickly upwards, so fast I didn't even have time to look down.

A second later, Edward was right in front of me, both of us standing – while floating – on the deepest end of the pool. And his body was practically flush with mine.

And I wasn't uncomfortable at all. My shoulders and chest, out of the lukewarm liquid, were covered in goose bumps. But I didn't feel cold, but rather warm. Searing.

He angled himself closer, and I could see him like never before, wet and barely naked. I could feel him so, and something about me was at the point of snapping.

His green eyes had that same light – that burning, slow and relentless – that made me feel like the only creature in his world. As if he was adoring me, wanting me, pleading something of me I so desperately wanted to give.

With our chests barely touching, he leaned in some more, and placed his hands on the wall at my sides, effectively pinning me there. As if I wasn't already trapped.

"Edward…", I breathed, tentatively, sounding like a prey pleading to her predator. "I thought you said you'd be patient"

"I know", he whispered, "but I also said I really couldn't control myself around you"

I bit my lower lip, panting. And it wasn't from the lengths I'd swam. He was crushing my resolve, and knew it well.

Patient, but not passive.

His eyes dropped from my eyes to my lips, and I closed mine. I was losing it. The heat radiating from his body and my own was driving me insane.

A jolt went through me and my eyes flew open, only to see bronze hair. I could feel Edward's mouth on the side of my neck, tracing it ever so slowly, making me shiver again and again at his warm mouth and breath.

So I snapped. I gave in. I sought support in his broad shoulders and pulled him to me, tilting my head to the side.

Offering what he wanted for him to take, helpless and ecstatic.

Seconds after, I felt his hands slowly snaking around my waste, and opened my eyes.

His were boring into mine, scrutinizing my reaction and conveying just how much he wanted this.

It was mutual. So I showed him.

I captured his lips without even thinking, just letting myself go. And he replied, hungrily, sucking on my bottom lip and making me moan, once again. I couldn't find it in me to muffle it, or care.

The feel of his toned body against mine was too good. The soft friction while the water lapped at us was fueling my frenzied state and I wanted more.

So I slowly licked his lips, asking for him to open them for me, to let me taste him again. He granted my wish and groaned, pushing me against the pool wall, holding me tighter against him, deepening the kiss and increasing the friction between us all at once.

All I could do was crush myself to him as close as physically possible, reveling in the sensations my whole body was experiencing.

And all I could hear in my mind was a chant for more. No part of me was willing to let go of Edward.

Eventually, we broke the kiss, and I was tremendously happy we both swam. We'd probably never last that long if we weren't so accustomed to holding our breath.

We didn't pull apart, though. I opened my eyes slowly, searching his, and finding heavy with undeniable lust. Desire that only fueled my own.

Still breathing air rich with his smell, some oxygen did manage to permeate through my brain, and I realized what had just happened.

And what almost followed.

It seemed to have the same effect on Edward, as he pushed himself off the wall, giving me a little more space and shaking his head.

"That was… Your fault", he sighed, and I could feel my eyebrows scrunching up in confusion.

"My fault? What did I do to you?", I blurted out, my voice much lower than usual.

He shot me an incredulous look.

"I think I just showed you", he answered, and rubbed his face with his hands, trying to regain full rational ability. I was doing it myself.

I bit my lip again, nervous. This wasn't meant to happen. And the possible consequences scared me even further, since our arrangement went out the window.

"Are you still okay with being patient?", I finally asked, dreading the answer and hugging myself. It felt really cold, now that he'd move too far for me to feel the warmth of his skin.

"As long as your resolve stands", he smirked, and dove in, starting a length.

Sighing, I gave up on swimming for the day and got out of the pool, wrapping myself with my big towel and taking a seat, watching Edward. And ignoring the need for a very long cold shower.

This was a new development. A development that destroyed the comfort that a simple friendship offered.

And that offered the passion a friendship never could.

I already knew just how difficult it would be to resist him and his willingness to be patient, but not passive.


	19. The Star Of The Show

**Author's note:**

**It was a bit surprising to have nothing but such positive response to last chapter. You guys really rock!**

**I know – bad, bad writer! This update came much later than what I usually aim for, and I apologize; this is in no way a reflection of how much I'm enjoying it or how great you all are. I'll make my best to make it up for you with… Perhaps an extra chapter next week?**

**The building I describe doesn't exist – to the best of my knowledge. Also, I have absolutely no idea what the curriculum is for Dartmouth's majors, so I made it up. Yes, I can do that.**

**Soundtrack: **_**Aerosmith – Jaded/ The Hoosiers – Goodbye Mr. A**_

Dartmouth's main auditorium was a large elliptical building used for conferences, special events and, infrequently, classes.

That Monday afternoon, the lights above the audience chairs were off, all the attention and light centered on the main stage.

Alice nudged me, pointing, and I smiled. Jasper was by the side of the stage, leaning against the wooden paneling, waiting for his turn; unfortunately, being a Whitlock, he'd be the last one to get called.

I sunk further into the cushy chair, failing to pay attention to what the current student was saying and his presentation. It had been quite boring so far, but I kept reminding myself this was worth it. We were here to support our friend, me and Alice; he'd already been there for us when we needed it the most.

And Edward was there too. I smiled, knowing he was watching me from the corner of his eye. I'd caught him doing it quite a few times already, in the past hour.

After Jasper's invitation, that morning, I'd asked him to come too, an effort to bring him into my small circle of friends. An effort to make things easier, more comfortable for the both of us.

It wasn't working. My body was crammed into the left side of my chair, and I had taken possession of his right armrest, our arms and shoulders touching, so close I could hear him breathing. And breathe him in.

Alice had stolen glances and snickered, but I merely glared at her. I wasn't the one swooning in Jasper's direction, but I could most certainly understand her.

Clad in a white button down shirt and a grey suit, the blond man looked more like a male model than a Comparative Literature student. I wondered if he'd ever considered pursuing it; with his casual and sensible attitude, he'd be a success.

That was just another sign of alarm; I should have been attracted to Jasper, in some primitive way, but felt nothing but the sweet pull of friendship towards him. Not at all the intensity, tension and longing I had to admit I felt when it was Edward, even if he was just clad in his college uniform, just like me.

Forcing myself to straighten myself up in the chair, I decided to start a conversation with Alice, but she quickly dismissed me in turn of checking out Jasper. The undercurrent of small talk was omnipresent in the big room, with a few dozen attending, mostly students.

"Bella?", Edward asked, and I turned left, showing I'd heard him. "I was wondering if you'd like to do something different next Saturday?"

I froze, and bit my lower lip in embarrassment. Was he really talking about this in front of Alice?

"What do you mean?", I asked, in a small voice.

"Instead of swimming", he explained, and smirked a little. He was enjoying it.

Shooting him a glare, I mumbled my agreement. It was probably for the best. Naked, wet Edward had starred in my daydreams quite frequently, and it was best to regain my focus.

Finally, Jasper climbed the few steps to the stage and took over the microphone, a presentation about the Civil War starting behind him.

In an instant, the room fell quiet and his voice rang, strong and low, talking about Historic events, focusing on the Literature work of the same period.

As it unraveled, I sat at the edge of my chair, in awe, absorbing what he was saying. Jasper was good. Very, very good. Eloquent, he had me hanging on his every word, and agreeing completely with his every remark. There was almost a smile hidden behind his enthusiastic expression, and a passion that drew me in.

I felt a tug on my elbow, and turned to Edward again, who was surveying the room. I was about to scold him for his lack of interest in the amazing lecture when he pointed the rows of people in front of us.

"Look."

And I did. And every single one of the members of the audience was drinking Jasper's words as if he was some kind of prophet, a veil of silence lending them even more power. I understood what Edward was trying to bring to my attention. We'd been sitting here for nearly two hours, and not one of the other student's had managed anything of the sort.

I changed my mind. His future would be completely wasted as a model; he had the makings of a leader, and a Political Sciences major was much more adequate.

All too soon, the lecture ended, and I was positive it must have taken a third of the designated time.

And then it happened. A loud applause rose, for the first time all afternoon, from the audience rows. The present teachers mostly refrained from it; still, not one of them was wearing their cold, superior, academic scowl. _Nice going, Jasper!_

Alice and me were grinning ear to ear, and clapping along enthusiastically. The man of the hour didn't seem to enjoy the attention, though, as he stepped down from the stage as soon as humanly possible without running, retreating to his introvert self as soon as it ended.

Edward had clapped along, of course, but there was some emotion playing in his expression I couldn't quite place. It wasn't, however, enough to make the hype ebb down until we reached Jasper.

"You were amazing!", Alice gushed, giving him an one-armed hug, which I'm sure surprised him, and not in a bad way. I could see his smirk evolving to a full-blown grin, and I bit back one of my own.

"You had everyone's attention, back there. That's a very interesting talent", Edward managed, still a bit uneasy, but Jasper received the compliment with a firm handshake.

I wasn't sure what it meant for them, but I hoped the demonstration of respect was, at least, a start.

"What do you think, Bella?", Edward asked me, sounding genuinely interested in my answer.

I thought it over for a few seconds, trying to elaborate a bit more:

"I liked the theme; it was original and the approach was fresh, different. And, of course, you managed to turn it into something really captivating. Really good work"

All three of them chuckled in response, and I quirked an eyebrow, a silent question.

"You sound like a teacher", Jasper explained, amused. "Let's celebrate; coffee is on me"

I merely stuffed my hands in my hoodie's pockets, following Alice and Jasper, with Edward by my side.

I thought about the possibility; me, Bella Swan, a teacher. It wasn't as if it offended me – quite the contrary. I believed that a good teacher had to possess not only an extensive knowledge on the lecture's subject, but also the gift of making his point across.

Such individuals were rare. So were good teachers.

Still, that wasn't my main interest. I had to keep my goals in focus; how could I travel down a path successfully if I kept changing its destination?

My musings were interrupted by Alice, turning back to include me in the conversation:

"So what about that Gaspard guy? How was it, this morning?", she asked, concern lacing her voice.

"Not bad, actually. He just ignored me, for the most part. I'm not sure I should be mad or relieved", I answered, sighing.

Edward squeezed my shoulder gently, in reassurance, and whispered in my ear: "You could have accepted my offer"

He had, indeed, offered to lend me his notes for class, which would render my physical presence useless. But my pride stopped me from accepting the suggestion; I was no coward. And I was determined to show my face in class every week and prove the dimwit teacher wrong.

Offering a thankful smile, we both entered the warmer cafeteria after our friends. Huddling up at one of the tables, we exchanged war stories about presentations gone wrong and teachers from hell. We had more material for this type of conversation than one might assume, and ended up getting dinner at some point, my sides hurting from laughing at some of it – especially something involving shards of glass and entire rooms being evacuated on High School. I was glad not to be taking Chemistry with Edward.

Still, it was always there. Even if I looked everywhere but his eyes and pale skin, even if I did my very best to focus on the conversation and that alone, it was undeniable.

I was very conscious of Edward's physical presence, inches away, and the undercurrent of tension never ceased to exist. His voice was always the sweetest to me, and I kept hoping for him to reveal some of his past to me, to learn more.

We were dishing the lasagna when Alice turned the conversations over to relationships, and I tuned it out. There was nothing I could add to it.

Edward was her victim.

"So, how many broken hearts in Chicago?", she chirped, in a perfectly angelic voice that contradicted the malice her smile held.

That's when I realized it would actually be interesting. So, I turned slightly in my chair, and let out a low chuckle.

He was actually blushing.

"Not many", he mumbled, looking down. "And none of it was my fault. I'd always make my feelings clear, even if it cost me some friends"

"How many women have you dated seriously?", Dr. Alice Feelings asked, and I shot her a pointed look that clearly said «_Stop the questioning right now, Brandon_».

Having done that, I sunk under the weight of my own curiosity, and turned to Edward again. His eyes were trained on me, but he didn't seem uncomfortable anymore.

"Actually, I've never actually dated anyone. Never wanted to. And, like I told Bella, I know what I want when I see it and I'm willing to wait for it"

His mischievous green eyes held my chocked attention for a few seconds, after which I snuck a glance at my friends' expressions, none of them helpful. Alice's mouth was slightly hanging open, and Jasper's turned up in a smile. _Traitors._

Sensing my unease, Alice cleared her throat, and I considered her forgiven.

"What about you, Jasper?"

I watched the exchange with ease, noticing how he described typical experimental relationships in High School, and Alice's relief. She proceeded to talk of her terrible weekend, and dropped a hint about being free the next one.

But Jasper, bless his oblivion, started questioning her about a project, and I nearly winced. No matter how brilliant Whitlock was, he needed some insight on a woman's mind.

Finally, we said our goodbyes, Edward giving me a brief kiss on the cheek – which wasn't that small of a gesture, considering the amount of people witnessing it – and I walked back to the dorm with a huffing Alice by my side.

"You'll have to be a bit more direct", I merely stated.

"Easy for you to say, with Mr. Bronze Locks there, basically proclaiming his love", she spat, and huffed some more. I had to laugh at her absurdity, and mused about nicknaming Edward, imagining his scowl. "Why can't he just ask me out?"

"You mean, again? The ball is actually on your court. Why don't you go ahead and do it?", I inquired, understanding very little of this dance. Still, if her pile of women's magazines was proportional to her knowledge, she wouldn't have been in that predicament.

"I really want to know what his intentions are. If he likes me or not. It's driving me crazy just not knowing!"

I locked arms with her, giving her a gentle smile.

"Maybe he's hoping for the exact same thing", I answered, and surprised myself at how non-cynical I sounded and felt.

Entering the room, Alice put on some music and I was planning on getting ready to bed when my phone rang.

I slipped into the bathroom, wanting some privacy. Just in case.

Still, the number wasn't familiar, so I answered with caution.

"Hello?"

"Bella?", a loud voice boomed on the other end of the receiver. "It's Emmett. McCarthy"

"Hi", I greeted, shyly. I was half-expecting him to scold me for annoying his girlfriend on Friday night.

"Hey. Listen, I was wondering if I could… Hmm… Maybe meet you? Right now?"

My eyebrows shot up at the suggestion, but the broken tone of voice left me thinking something might be wrong. Who was I to deny help to anyone?

"Do you know how to get here?"


	20. Requests and Demands

**Author's notes (three of them, actually):**

_**First**_** - I know I've never actually typed it up, but I thought it a few times already: you are all most welcome to send me a pm with a suggestion for the storyline, or for any reason, really.**

_**Secondly **_**- In celebration of the 20th****chapter, I'm revealing that the last chapter has been typed up, re-typed and tweaked as close to perfection as my abilities allow. Still, a lot is yet to come, and I'm hoping that's good news.**

_**Thirdly**_** - (And forgive me for getting all emotional) I feel particularly blessed to have all of you amazing individuals as my readers, and I do mean it. Thanks to everyone who is still with me, twenty chapters into this.**

**Soundtrack: **_**Muse – Feeling Good **_**(for the last part)**

Waiting patiently for Emmett, I resisted the overwhelming impulse to just sneak under the covers for a few minutes and put on a robe when he arrived. I wasn't exceedingly sleepy, but I had an early day Tuesday, and so did Alice.

"What did he want?", she asked, feeling as wary as me about it.

"He said he wanted to meet, but didn't explain why", I shrugged.

"You think it's about the car?"

Her eyes had widened considerably at the possibility, and I understood why. We hadn't told her parents yet – but the cost of the repair would certainly exceed what she could afford on her own. We were still thinking about how to break the news to them, and I knew it terrified her.

I shook my head with little vigor, but with certainty nonetheless.

"No, he asked if it could be just me and him; if it was about the car, he wouldn't want privacy", I stated.

"Privacy? Well, isn't that nice, being thrown out of my own room at night by a stranger?", Alice spat. "You told him no, right? He seems like a nice enough guy, but I don't know him well enough to leave you two alone"

I smiled slightly at her protectiveness, rejoicing having my best friend fully back to her former self. I'd thought about that aspect myself, and being alone with Emmett was something I haven't planned on at all. After assuring Alice of it, we heard a short, hard knock on the door, and opened to find the bulky man.

He greeted, politely but curtly, and didn't seem to bother much with Alice's presence.

We placed the desk chair for him to take in between our beds and sat on them, forming a triangle.

"So, what brings you here?", I asked, and instantly bit my own tongue. I had a habit of treating people in distress like patients, which, I gathered, was quite annoying.

His shoulders were slumped, and I studied with interest the mask he seemed to be wearing. He looked so disoriented, it made me want to scoot nearer and pat his broad back.

"I'm sorry about it… being late and all, but I had a… conversation with Rosalie, earlier", he muttered, but I could hear «_fight_» quite clearly. "And I thought you might understand my point", he stated, addressing me, in a hopeful tone.

I nodded, urging him forward: "Go ahead"

"She wants us to have a kid", he let out, in a gush of air, as if it was some epic proclamation.

"We know that, Emmett. Actually, I think anyone that barely had contact with your girlfriend knows that. Just the way she acts when she's around children…", Alice stated in a matter-of-fact way, trailing off when she saw his gaze drop to the carpet.

"But you don't", I added, facing the big man. "Do you?"

His head snapped up, and he looked downright offended.

"That's not true! I do want children… someday", he stated, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"Okay… I see what the problem is", I said. "So, how can I help?", I asked, still confused about it, but quickly regretted having said anything.

What if he just wanted to vent? Most men would never admit to it, even if it were true, and he couldn't very well drop by one of his male friends' house and have a heart-to-heart. I'd lived with Charlie long enough to know guys just didn't do that.

Fortunately, for him at least, his issues were much more practical.

"I need your help with this, since, with you not wanting kids and all, you can probably lend me some points that would really help my case", he explained, sounding quite proud of himself for thinking this plan through.

I felt as if I'd been slapped, and didn't even fight letting it show. He had come to me so I'd help him convince his girlfriend not to have children.

And, for some reason, that really hurt.

Alice recoiled, looking as if he'd mortally offended her, and sat Indian style against her bed's headboard, scowling at Emmett. Of course, she knew his lack of sensitivity would stir up things I'd rather leave untouched. Good for him it wasn't her help he was asking for, or his chances would have been pretty much shot.

"Why me? Why not turn to… someone else?", I managed, and cursed my voice for sounding weak.

Finally, the faux-pas dawned on him and he put his hands up in a gesture of apology.

"I didn't mean anything bad by it. My family and Rose's are on her side; hell, my mother would probably smack me upside the head if she found out I didn't want to be a father just yet. There's just no one to turn to with this. They'd all think I'm just being a jerk!"

Alice snorted, and I shot her a pacifying glance.

"Were you always honest about it with her?", I asked, trying to assess the mess he was in.

"I told her, early on, I was all for having children, but I always thought… I don't know… That it would be latter on, in a few years. But Rosalie sees her thirties coming up, and she's gone all mental about it", he muttered, but anyone could tell his concern was genuine, even if he was a bit rough around the edges.

"Why are you so opposed to having a child now? I mean… Aren't you guys settled as a couple?", I asked, once more, trying to be sympathetic.

He jutted his chin out, and uttered his next words with obvious pride:

"I'm not a rich man, but the gym and the shop are doing well, and we live a nice life. I may not have a lot of things, but I have Rose, and it's all I need"

I had to give Emmett credit for the manliest declaration of love I'd ever heard.

"Then, why not?", I insisted.

He mulled it over for a few seconds, scratching the shadow of beard covering his chin.

"I don't know. It just seems so soon to give up what we have now. I'm not so sure I want things to change, but it's never been this bad. Rosie had never thrown me out of the house before"

I blinked several times as I digested that particular piece of information. That woman had some fire in her, I'd give her that.

"Listen, Emmett… I know you're hoping for me to coach you through some way of winning this quarrel with Rosalie, but you don't really want that", I said, before pausing to lick my lips, not very fond of my next words. "It's the natural progression of things, and you don't really want her to give up on that dream. Not if it's that important to her"

"Just imagine having to make that big of a concession", Alice added, seemingly a bit more relaxed. "Give up your whole life plan, the thing you want the most, because your partner is getting cold feet"

As she was saying it, I smirked a little; she was using, consciously or not, my words.

"I'm not getting…", Emmett tried to protest, but I cut right through his load of crap.

"Yes, you are. You say you're against change, but, at this point, I don't really think you have much of a choice. She threw you out; it certainly seems things are changing, rather you want it or not. You've just got to make a decision, and follow it through"

The big man grimaced.

"Can't I just propose to her or something? Get her mind off the baby thing?"

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Right, Emmett. You ask your girlfriend in marriage, hoping that will distract her from obsessing over your future. That's not, or will it ever be, a good reason to take that step, and it wouldn't help your case any"

He just closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead, muttering:

"Right. Bad idea", and he sat there for a few seconds, lost in thought, while Alice and I snuck glances at each other.

I hadn't meant to encourage Emmett to give up the fight – quite the contrary. I was hoping for him to do some soul-searching and figure out rather he wanted Rosalie and children badly enough to conquer his fears or not. There was no shame in admitting it, and, if that was the case, it was best to act accordingly than to go on living a lie for the sake of another.

For some reason, I didn't think phrasing that sentiment that way would be very helpful for him.

"So, what now?", Alice voiced.

"I'll get back and talk to her, I guess", he said, standing up.

"No, you do not", my best friend countered, and shook her head in disapproval, her halo of black hair swerving around her.

"He doesn't?", I asked, confused.

"Of course not. Too soon. Let her calm down before you try to talk to her"

I cocked an eyebrow at Alice's calm demeanor facing other people's love life. Which was ironic, taking into the account the mess she was when it came to Jasper.

"Okay, then, I'll probably go find some place to crash", Emmett said, but his eyes betrayed him.

He was expecting the two of us to help him out.

"We'd offer for you to stay here, but… I really rather not imagine what Rosalie would say when she found out you'd spent the night in a dorm room with two college girls", I stated, and heard Alice cackle. "But maybe we could ask… Jasper", I suggested, turning to her.

She scowled at me not-so-subtle attempt of getting her to talk to him.

"He's got a roommate, it's crammed up as it is", she said. "But we could always call Edward"

Before I could protest, she jumped up from her bed and started scrolling down her contact list, hushing me.

"I really appreciate you talking to me and all", Emmett said, and I nodded in acknowledgement. We understood each other quite well, and he did remind me a lot of Charlie. "Have you got anything to eat?"

I chuckled, and got up to the fridge, grabbing our bowl of fruit, and offered it to him. He frowned, but refrained from criticizing, turning to check out the available options himself.

Seconds later, he was munching on a muesli bar when Alice ended the call.

"Everything is sorted out! Bella, I already told Edward you'd be taking his guest there", she winked, and I groaned under my breath.

Putting on my coat, I tried to avert my eyes from the way Emmett was cramming the rest of the bar into his mouth before thanking Alice and waving her goodbye.

The walk to the dorm could have been enjoyable, even in the cold night, if Emmett stopped asking so many questions, most of them related to how far away it was. Finally, we got to Edward's door, and this time, I didn't hesitate to knock.

In the few seconds that it took for him to open it, I considered how scared and crushed I felt the last time I came knocking. Only, this time, it wouldn't be me staying for the night.

As the door flew open, I was about to greet Edward when Emmett stepped forward, grabbing one of his hands.

"I'm Emmett McCarthy. Thanks a lot for letting me crash for the night…", he trailed off, and I decided to save him some embarrassment.

"Edward", I supplied, and Emmett nodded, entering the room without as much as a second glance.

"No problem", Edward muttered, and even though his tone was cool, I could see his clenched jaw and fists.

Alice hadn't been entirely truthful. Something was definitely not okay by him.

"Hey, again", I tried, in a little voice. "Sorry about this…"

"It's alright, really", he sighed, running his hair through his wiry hair. "It's just…"

Emmett chose that moment to stick his head out of the door and look out to the corridor, where the both of us stood.

"I know that's a big bed and all, but we're not sharing, right?", he asked, and then, in a bit of a panicked voice, added: "You're not gay or anything, are you?"

I did my best to stifle my laughter, but I was sure my shoulders were shaking. Edward answered for me:

"No, I'm not gay, and you can take the sleeping bag I keep inside the closet. We'll open it up on the floor over a couple of blankets, and I'll find you clean sheets"

Even if what he was doing for someone he'd never met was generous and utterly sweet, there was a sour bite to his words that Emmett didn't pick up, or chose to ignore.

"Right. Thanks again, Bella, have a nice night", he smiled, and I merely waved him goodbye, before he disappeared into the room again.

Looking back to Edward, I could tell he was livid. And, honestly, I didn't think the situation called for it. Annoyance, yes, but not blistering anger.

"What's wrong?"

"Is it that obvious?", he asked, and I felt nodding would probably be best. "I had to see you all excited about Jasper, which just made me uncomfortable. And if I hadn't agreed to take _him_ in", he shot a pointed glance at the door, indicating Emmett, "he would have probably slept in your room. And all that in one day is reason enough for me to be… Unhappy", he concluded, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

I didn't know what the appropriate response would be.

I was certainly mad at his assumptions and archaic mentality, aside from his obvious possessiveness.

In the grand scheme of things, though, no being was perfect; and Edward's flaws were certainly forgivable.

Still, smiling in reassurance didn't quite get my point across, so I settled for reasoning with him.

"Jasper is just a friend, and he'd still be one, even if he wasn't interested in Alice", I stated, as calmly as possible, and saw him relax a little. "I thought we'd already gone over this"

Looking contrived, he continued to explain: "I know, but just the way you looked at him made me think twice about it. I can understand why you like Jasper, but this guy? Alice told me he was involved in her accident, and that he needed help but, honestly, I couldn't make sense of it. She did point out he'd requested to speak to _you_"

I was going to snap that pixie's neck. If she thought a jealous Edward was funny, than she should be the one dealing with his temper.

"He is having trouble with his girlfriend, and she threw him out", I went on, carefully choosing my words. "Friday, we had dinner, and since it became clear I didn't share her point of view, he decided to ask for my advice"

That was a fragment of the truth. Still, I wasn't ready to talk to Edward about that particular subject.

He resumed messing his hair up, looking relieved and free of any anger, as far as I could tell.

"Sorry", he muttered, and I didn't even reply, just taking in his soft, pale skin, slightly glowing in the bluish light the glass door at the end of the corridor allowed in.

Before I could refrain myself, I had reached for his face, and was tracing his cheekbones and jaw line with my fingers.

His smirk told me that was the only reassurance he'd ever need.

"A goodnight kiss?", Edward suggested, leaning fractionally towards me.

I gave him a smile and, mimicking his gestured from earlier, got on the tip of my toes to give him a soft kiss on the cheek.

We both wanted more, and I knew it.

Just as I knew it was for the best if I resisted those impulses.

He pulled back, disappointment written all over his face, and seemed to suddenly remember something.

"You're walking back to your dorm alone?"

"It's fine, Edward", I assured him, bordering on annoyed at his behavior. He most definitely did not exaggerate when claiming to be an old school kind of man. "It's late and you still have to set up your guest. I'm perfectly capable of walking back on my own"

He grimaced, but then held up one finger, silently asking me to wait.

After he entered, I heard the sound of scrapping wood and mumbled instructions.

"Leaving again?", Emmett asked, loud enough for me to hear.

"Just walking Bella back. Make yourself at home", I heard the muffled answer.

"Aiming for another goodnight kiss, hein?" the bigger man insisted, and a smiling Edward came out the door, while I heroically tried to keep a straight face.

"I certainly wouldn't oppose", he whispered to me, smirking, and we went out to the cold night.


	21. Rest In Peace

**As I told some of you, I wasn't planning on writing the scene from when they get back to Bella's room, turning it into a brief flashback – but so many were interested in it, I felt myself caving. This is for you guys, after all, so it makes perfect sense.**

**Sorry about taking this long to update; as I feel you deserve an explanation, read the next paragraph at your own risk.**

**Had some serious issues regarding some appliances blowing up and a small house fire, but no one was injured. Except my bank account; still weeping, the poor thing. /End Rant**

**Hope your holidays are going great!**

**Oh, and props to **_**mskathy**_**for her wonderful ideas, one of which included in this chapter. Enjoy!**

As we walked back to my room, I felt my spirits plummet, and the silence Edward granted me was welcome. I couldn't quite place it, or give it a name, but some emotion was creeping upon me, as cold and visible as the small cloud of condensed humidity I could see in front of me with each breath I exhaled.

The stinging and unsettling sensation at the corner of my eyes let me know I was about to cry – but I held it in, something I was only able to do because he was there. And even if I didn't know what it was, I knew its source, and that I wasn't ready to share that part of me with him.

"Thank you for walking me back, Edward", I whispered, genuinely happy he did.

I was grateful for everything. For the way he'd made me feel, every time we were in the same room; the sweetness the memory of him evoked, even in his absence.

It would be terribly sad to have missed on all of these wonderful gifts. And I was glad I was being able to experience them, even if there was still an invisible line I dared not cross.

It had been, maybe, half a second after I spoke, and he was standing in front of me, when I saw his lips part, in some degree of hesitation.

"It was my pleasure", he assured me, in a low voice, and I fought a twinge of sadness that he wasn't aiming for another goodnight kiss at all.

I could just imagine Emmett teasing him about it.

So, why not give him something to tease about?

Deciding to bend the rules just a little, I leaned into him and placed a short, chaste kiss on his soft lips, tracing his cheek with a lingering touch.

"Goodnight", I was able to mumble, the word cutting through the night's air, heavy with humidity and the tension that always surrounded us.

Edward smiled at me, looking a bit shell-shocked, and I knew why.

It had never been this way for us.

We'd shared kisses before, but those had been spur of the moment; this was small, not quite as passionate and exciting, but meant so much more.

"Goodnight, Bella", he called back, and I turned to climb the stairs to my room, ready to turn in for a few hours of sleep.

If only I'd known.

By Saturday morning, waking up was followed by intense frustration, as it had been for days straight.

My pillow was wet with my own tears, and I just flipped it, the living image of denial and aware of it.

Still, I didn't know what to do.

Ever since the night Emmett called, I'd felt it; a dark haze of dread I couldn't quite place.

For once, I was the cause of my own static.

In an effort to snap myself out of it, I'd worked harder and longer that whole week, dropping in bed, exhausted, every single time.

Still, I'd always wake up from my nightmares in the middle of the night, wondering why my tired mind and body wouldn't give it a rest. Literally.

Always the same. Always me and the brown-haired baby, and all the accusing mothers.

I just knew that hearing it from Emmett really hurt. It might be true that I wasn't planning on having children, but it was painfully clear, from my own reaction, that I did _want_ it.

But to consider that possibility opened the door to a sea of others – like the benefit my son or daughter would receive from having two parents instead of one. A family.

As I mused about my nightmares, staring openly to the light ceiling, I admitted to myself that I'd always known I'd be making sacrifices, and I'd already suffered through some. This was just another one. Even if, quite possibly, the worst.

Words of doubt kept echoing in my mind, and I was tired. I was doing this to myself, and I knew it. And what a great timing it was – with mid-terms all throughout the following week.

Giving up on sleep for the night, I rose and looked inside my closet, trying to discern the clothing items as best as I could with no lights on. Alice's soft snoring let me know she was deep in sleep, envy surging through me.

It was easy to take something for granted; being deprived of it really opened your eyes.

Everything was suffering. My concentration, the amount of time I was able to work, my appetite, and vitality – all endured an extreme blow. On Thursday, only Jasper's timely shoves kept me from falling asleep in Psychology – which, taking the teacher's high pitched voice in consideration, was quite the feat.

A bed is more than just a place where you sleep. It's a warm shelter in a cold night; a protection, a sanctuary. There's a sacred aspect to it that often escapes us; but being unable to trust your own bed to provide the rest you need is nothing short of betrayal.

Still, if anything was betraying me, it was my own idiotic hormones.

As I checked myself to see if my track suit was on correctly, I wished, for his sake and mine, Edward had taken into account my need for peace. This was not a good week to be deprived of a swim, but I'd follow his plan, mainly because I'd been avoiding his questions, and wanted to appease him. I couldn't lie to him, but explain things wouldn't help any, so I had settled for evasion.

Six a clock came around, while I stared onto the deserted campus through the window after raiding the fridge. Sparing my swimsuit a loving glance, I put on my waterproof coat and got ready to leave.

The master of punctuality, Edward knocked at exactly six thirty, and I repressed a chuckle at the thought of him lurking outside my door, looking at the seconds ticking by in his watch.

We exchanged whispered greetings, while I closed the door behind me and I resisted, barely, the impulse to ask where we were going.

Looking like he was repressing some remarks of his own, Edward hurried us to his nice silver car, a spring on his step. Either he was exceptionally peppy, or I was the one exceptionally cranky, and I was ready to admit to the last.

Twenty minutes later, we were far away from any signs of civilization, thanks to his insane driving, and parking on a gravel path in the middle of the woods. As far as I could tell, only pines, oaks and cypresses surrounded us, tall and mighty, creating an expanse of deep green against the increasingly light blue sky.

"Ready to go?", Edward asked, smirking slightly while shrugging off his coat, revealing nothing more than a t-shirt underneath.

Whatever we were doing was, apparently, enough to keep us warm.

Taking off my own coat, I agreed, and Edward set off walking slowly in front of me, looking intently at marks freshly cut into the tree bark and obviously trying to get his bearings.

"I thought you might enjoy a run, for a change. I was here earlier in the week", he revealed, surprising me, "and scouted out a nice path for us. But, of course, we can make a detour, if you'd like, or… Go back and do something else"

He stopped altogether then, and I could see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, and I could swear I could hear the flow of water somewhere close.

"It's fine, really, it's a great idea", I acknowledged, and we resumed walking through the thick foliage. "I was just wondering why you decided to come here"

"I like to run", he stated, simply. "And I know you liked walks in the forest… I figured it would be a nice setting. Ah, here", he pointed, enthusiastically, to a flowing stream right ahead, and I could see how the rocky and sandy shore, with a slight natural incline to it, was just right for a run.

"This is perfect", I breathed, unsure he even heard me, "But I actually meant to ask… Why not swimming? Why did you want to try something different?"

I could see his face when realization struck him, and a half-smile, half-blush spread through his face, causing me to bite down on my lower lip, refraining my reaction.

"I… Last week, I broke my promise not to jump you, and I can't and won't feel bad about it, but I'm trying to be on my best behavior. And the way you look in your swimsuit, all wet…", he trailed off then, with a look I dared name wistful, "didn't really help, so I had to think of something else"

I smirked a little, mumbling an «I know _exactly_ what you mean», and set off running, hearing him chuckle behind me.

The adrenaline kicked in, and I could feel the wind facing downstream cut through me while I sped forward, cold and harsh, clearing my fogged mind.

I could feel my body wanting to give in pretty quickly, but by then I was out of control.

The speed at which I was running, the violence of pushing my overly tired body, was giving me a high beyond belief. I'd have to sleep after this. And just thinking about it fueled the violence I was pushing myself with.

Edward was keeping up, and urged me to slow down once or twice, but I just shook my head no. It felt too good letting loose.

Maybe swimming wasn't the one thing that did it for me, after all. Maybe I could find my freedom in any physical activity, provided I could feel my ribcage nearly splitting in half and the blood rushing through my veins at a wonderful speed.

"Bella, please stop!"

Edward's demanding voice snapped me out of it and I stopped, bending in half to grab my knees and ease the pain I could feel in the side of my abdomen.

"What is it?", I asked, straightening up and assessing his face.

Flushed and panting, just like me, Edward had his hands on his hips and a look of worry in his eyes.

"Look at yourself. I was going to take it slow and easy, just enjoy the place as much as possible, but you had to go and push yourself harder. What's going on?"

I didn't like to be the subject of anyone's concern, but even I knew that, by now, my physical aspect revealed just how tired I really was and felt. And he was, after all, entitled to ask; I'd been avoiding it all week, but Edward would remain silent no more.

"I haven't been sleeping very well", I stated, which could very well be classified as the understatement of the year, and sat down on a flat rock; on my peripheral vision, I could see him purse his lips. "It's not about Emmett, if that's what you're thinking, even if I had to admit he had a hand in making me think about my… future"

My voice broke then, and I wondered what his reaction would be if, one day, I told him the whole thing.

"Just because you make some decisions about what's best for you, doesn't mean you're happy with them one hundred percent of the time. Sometimes, there are moments of doubt, and there are things… Things you want, but given up on a long time ago", I finished, staring at the grayish stream.

"Why deprive yourself of those things, if you want them? Why not aim for it all?", he asked, getting on one knee in front of me so we were at eye-level.

"Not possible", I simply answered, unconvincingly even to myself, and sighed in utter exhaustion. "I really enjoyed this, Edward, it's really peaceful. Thank you for taking the time to plan this and bring me here"

"My pleasure", he replied, taking my hand in his and rubbing circles on my palm while we descended. "I just wish you'd think about it", he added, sometime later.

"Think about what?"

"Maybe coming up with a scenario where… The things you really hold dear co-existed. I'm not saying there wouldn't be some concessions, and, of course, the decision is yours, but I wish you did. Might save you some sleepless nights", he explained, and I caught myself smiling hole-heartedly at him, thanking him once more and scooting nearer while we walked, our shoulders brushing.

On the ride back, he kept checking his watch, and I couldn't help but chuckle. Alice had told him in no uncertain terms that I was due back in our room by ten, or he'd have hell to pay. As the smart man he was, he'd taken it seriously.

I mused about just taking the shower and curling in bed. Maybe – just maybe – the time spent walking back downstream, holding hands with Edward, and the quiet time in his presence was enough to soothe me. It just might.

Very aware of the sweaty mess I must have projected, I merely squeezed Edward's hand and waved him goodbye, before hurrying to my room to meet the deadline.

As soon as I tried to open the door, I got tackled by a blur of black and purple.

"Bella, he said yes! Jasper said yes!", Alice screamed, and I quickly made sense of it.

"You finally asked Jasper out? When? Where to?", I asked, as she pushed me into the bathroom.

"We're going out to dinner tomorrow!", she grinned, and I couldn't help but grin back, happy as I was about them finally doing something about what they felt. "I need to find a dress today, and if I don't have a pair of shoes to match… Please hurry, Bella"

Sighing, I quickly showered, and went like a whirlwind through our brunch while Alice accounted for every penny she could direct into her looks.

By then, I'd already decided to stay out of it. Of course, her enthusiasm would double – to put it lightly – if I'd said anything about his interest, but it really wasn't my place. And wasn't it the good part discovering these feelings and sharing them for the first time? I couldn't see the wonder in cheating that.

As we visited the nice stores one by one, my tired mind kept drifting. I revisited with no little amount of detail the night I'd spent in Edward's arms, and groaned when I remembered how good it felt and how well I've slept. Surely he wouldn't mind helping me out, if my insomnia continued?

Unfortunately, the shopping spree only managed to give me a heavy headache, and though my body gave up pretty quickly once I hit the bed, I woke up almost immediately, the nightmare seemingly more vivid than ever.

Edward's words were meant to be soothing, but the truth was they hadn't helped with my resolve at all, only raising more doubts.

Having children and a family of my own could hardly be labeled as static anymore, but they weren't a plan of mine either. The grey area of my feelings and thoughts couldn't be ignored anymore, and it was sucking me dry.

What if I, truly, needed to change my mind? If my own body was rejecting it, what good could come of focusing only on my career? I'd just resent it later on.

I'd have to find a way to make it work. A way of having space in my life for the whole to develop – not just a part of it, not just a part of me.

And that was how I came to make a decision to make different decisions, out of sheer fatigue.


	22. Peaceful Surprises

**Author's note:**

**Happy New Year, everyone! I hope it brings joy, peace, happiness and good surprises. Have fun!**

**Soundtrack: Something relaxing, romantic, warm. Personally, I went with **_**Frank Sinatra – Fly Me to The Moon, The Way you Look Tonight, I've Got You Under My Skin, My Funny Valentine, Come Fly With me**_**. As you can see, I'm a sucker for the oldies.**

**You can see where this fits, bellow. It's a smaller chapter, but I'm certain you'll understand the need for me to stop it at that point. Enjoy!**

Monday morning, all things considered, I had reasons to be happy. Alice's date with Jasper had gone tremendously well, even if there hadn't been any advances, per se. According to what my best friend told me, they spent the night getting to know each other a little better, sharing desert in a romantic environment.

The old Bella, the one that had first come to Dartmouth in September, would have been slightly nauseated at the thought and immediately worried about Alice's well-being when things, inevitably, went wrong.

Now, I simply wasn't expecting anything to go wrong. I was allowing myself to hope for the both of them, a happy witness – not even the slightest bit tempted to interfere – to their path together.

My epiphany had left me feeling strangely calm about that course of action.

Still, there was plenty weighing me down.

Mid-terms week was a reality, and my mind was tracked on one thought, one thought alone.

I had to make it.

I hadn't come this far to fare badly in college, and I still held within me the intensity that had always moved me to become a M.D.; I knew myself well enough to know it wouldn't die down. It was the very fiber of my being, and I believed resilience to be a strong mark of character.

That been said, I was panicking.

Trying to go through my normal routine was a big enough challenge, in my sleep-deprived state. Attempting to study on top of it was just painful. After a while, my Genetics notes blended with Biochemistry, and I could only hope for a rare moment of clarity during my tests.

I couldn't help but be a little disappointed at the fact that my small resolution – which held big consequences I was now ready to face – didn't ease me to sleep as I'd expected. It wasn't as if the nightmares had continued, the two previous nights.

Oddly, I'd fall asleep only to wake up a few minutes later, startled and tired. It was as if, even with my issues resolved, I couldn't come back to my old patterns.

With a last pull on my ponytail and sip of my cup of tea – since I'd deserted any stimulants, in hopes it would help – I walked in to my Anatomy mid-term, barely paying attention to my surroundings, as usual.

Still, as the pages were placed in front of me, I was able to muster my concentration skills. Absorbed in simple truths and answers, I got through it quite easily; after all, I'd dealt with most of the material pretty closely.

Engulfed in my own comfortable bubble of confidence, I saw Edward emerge, during the break that followed, and spared him a long look. He seemed preocupied, to put it mildly. Still, I knew he'd probably refrain from comments about the lines or bags under my eyes.

"How did it go?" he asked, tentatively, taking the seat in front of mine in the little crowded in-campus coffee shop.

"Very well, actually; definitely better than I predicted," I ventured. His eyebrows shot up, and his expression lightened. "And yours?"

"It was fine," he dismissed. "You're in a good mood then? That's good to know," he rushed, under his breath, and I couldn't help but feel suspicious.

"What's wrong?" I asked, and could sense an evasive response.

"Nothing's wrong. I just wanted to, finally, give you your prize. It's long overdue, anyway," he reasoned, and gave me a smile that clearly stated «please, let me do this for you».

For once, I wasn't going to oppose to any form of pampering.

"Do you have it here?" I asked, sneaking a look to his caramel leather jacket to try to assess any bulges in the pockets. Of course, this reaction only made him laugh.

"No, I don't. There's actually a part you play in all this. You have to enter your dorm at exactly five p.m., and I'm not kidding. I don't want you there a minute earlier or later."

My suspicions only grew; what kind of present was it? I hoped it wasn't over the top.

"Did you have Alice's help in this?" I inquired, which was just another way of asking the same thing.

"Only in clearing out the room for you. She has errands to run, like laundry and pick your car up from the shop, so you can have a quiet, private time. The rest, I set it up myself," Edward stated, pride leaking through his words, and I gave him a smile.

"Alright, then. Five, not a minute earlier or later," I stated, and felt the familiar edge of curiosity. Flowers, maybe? But he knew how much I preferred potted, living plants; maybe he'd get me one of those, or maybe chocolates. But why the tight time-frame? That didn't fit with any of the scenarios I could come up with.

"Have you heard anything from McCarthy yet?" he asked, breaking me out of my speculations and surprising me some. I didn't think he'd have the slightest interest.

"No, not at all. He hasn't answered any of my calls, or the message I left on his voice-mail. I just hope that means Rosalie is keeping him busy, and that he's not off somewhere looking for a new place to live." There's a lot to say about giving advice. And even though the man was several years older and, of course, more experienced when it came to relationships, I still felt responsible.

"Caretaker," Edward muttered, as a critique, a mischievous glint in his eye. I was about to protest when I caught a glimpse of the clock on the wall, and started to stand up.

"I have to get to Statistics. See you later?" I asked, gathering my bag and coat.

"If all goes well, you won't see me today. So, make sure to be there on time," he smirked, having fun at my expense.

I tried to bury the disappointment at the fact that he'd just ruled out any kind of date-like activity. I wouldn't be seeing him at all. Forlorn at the perspective, I bent down to brush my lips against his skin, purposely ignoring the white expanse of his long neck and the wonderful smell concentrated there.

I highly doubted the surprise in store would be nearly as good as just his simple presence.

No longer inside my bubble, I made my way through the next mid-term, slowly but easily nonetheless. After lunch and a few hours at the library, I felt drained. The amount of energy I'd directed to the mid-terms had taken its tow, and by now, anything even remotely resembling sleep sounded just fine.

I waited patiently for five to come around, entering the dorm at exactly the right time, and I could swear the back door slipped shut simultaneously. I tiptoed – feeling silly about it, but unable to help it – to my room, and pried the door open, unsure as to what to be expecting.

I was glad not to have made the effort – since nothing could have quite prepared me for it.

The shutters were completely down, darkening the atmosphere, and a row of white candles lead to the brighter bathroom.

Stepping out of my boots, I set down my coat and bag, walking up to the bathroom door and inhaling the warm scent wafting away from the candles – heavy and sweet, I believed it to be jasmine, one of my favorites.

When I reached the threshold, I could feel a huge smile blooming in my face. The soft light came from many more of the same candles – placed in a row under the mirror, on the sides of the bathtub, and specked on the floor, out of the cushy path formed by the rug. By the side of the bathtub, I found my old CD player with a note attached.

It read, quite simply, «Play Me».

As Sinatra's voice filled the bathroom, I smiled some more, and closed the door behind me. It was one of my very favorites, and Edward had, evidently, remembered this.

The mirror was fogged and I approached the bathtub, hungrily taking in the sight of the perfumed bubbles. Testing it with my fingers, I noticed how warm it was, and finally understood the need for the tight time-frame. It had been produced to perfection.

Stepping closer to the hanger by the end of the bathroom, I started to undress myself, as I noticed the thick, soft white towels, resting beside the two most stunning items of clothing I'd ever seen.

Both the robe and nightgown were made of a light silk in a shade of blush pink, and embroidered with a pattern of cherry blossoms. They looked both sexy and decadently comfortable – inspired by Japanese art, no doubt, which my notebooks would attest as one of my preferences, once again.

Having shed my clothing, I entered the tub, which I had never expected to actually use, and relaxed back in it, enjoying only the soft light, the warmth, the scent of flowers, the music flowing in the room. A treat to my tired body and to all my senses, the experience was unbelievably peaceful.

It was the most considerate, thoughtful and wonderful surprise, and my heart swelled with the reality that Edward had done this for me.

I just allowed myself to be engulfed in that state of bliss, forgetting all about anything else, for what I suspected to be hours. My imagination evoked only expanses of white skin, the strength of a certain pair of arms, the glittering green of his eyes and the bronze shade of his hair.

When the warmth of the water started to ebb away, I stepped out, sighing, and dried myself with the big towels before putting on my new nightgown and robe. Some of the candles had already burned completely, and I blew out the rest, still wrapped up in my own personal bliss.

As I eased inside my bed, absolutely sure that sleep would take me for a very, very long time, pointed by nothing more than good dreams, I admitted myself happily wrong.

I had been sure that silence would make me happy, but the safety it offered barely left me content.

The beautiful song playing in my mind, made me positive that life wasn't supposed to be about silence.

My final thought, before being claimed by a spiral of green, bronze and ivory, was that I would never settle for content ever again.


	23. Books and Covers

**Hey everyone! Hope you all had fun welcoming 2009!**

**I did too, and it was a hangover short of perfection!**

**Hope you like the chapter – I can't believe I'm twenty three chapters and nearly four hundred reviews into this. It blows me away. You guys rock!**

**Soundtrack: **_**Oh, Gravity! – Switchfoot / Foo Fighters – Best Of You**_

There was simply no time.

Mid-term week was weighing down heavily on me, and my stomach seemed to have permanently shrunk under the pressure of my own anxiety.

Apart from Tuesday morning – when I woke up from ten beautiful hours of restful sleep to an enthusiastic Alice, who admitted to have leant Edward our room key – I had only been able to allocate time to go over my impressive stack of notes, carefully but quickly. I'd toyed with the idea of showing up in Edward's room to thank him, but settled for a short, unsatisfying phone call, during which we tried – and failed – to schedule a get-together.

Whoever decided to evaluate students this way was simply mad.

Pesky human needs such as food and bathroom breaks were now pushed to the end of my priority list – as irrational as that might sound – even if my newly restored relationship with my bed was proving itself a key element when it came to my survival through it all.

Understandably, when Friday came around, I simply didn't care.

I just wanted to get it over with, finish my Psychology mid-term to the best of my abilities and go out for a highly unhealthy meal, followed by a weekend of doing absolutely nothing but vegetate, listening to music and stretching my muscles. I was drooling at the perspective.

Alice and I had developed a highly advanced form of communication based in intelligible sounds we gave one another to indicate things such as "I'm too busy" or "It's your turn to call for take-out". Both immersed in books up to our elbows, I found it reassuring that our friendship was strong enough to allow us to ignore each other for hours on end, but strangely find comfort in the company the other provided. Thankfully, no loud music was involved.

Happy as I was that it would all be over in a few hours, even the chilly autumnal morning looked especially bright as I walked to class. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I quickly retrieved it, hoping it to be Edward.

After all, I was plotting on dropping in unannounced that evening, even knowing he'd probably need some rest. But seeing him for just a few seconds every now and then, before and after the classes we usually had together, was driving me mad.

Just as I made my resolution to change the way I lived, life itself was pulling me back, or so it seemed.

Unfortunately, it was an unknown number; I frowned, trying to decide whether to answer it or be in time for first period.

I settled for the first, thinking it might be Emmett.

"Hello?"

"It's Rosalie Hale," an icy voice replied on the other end, and I gritted my teeth against my will.

Wrong call. Should have ignored it. I could still excuse myself and end it by saying I needed to get to class, which was nothing but the truth, but curiosity and concern for Emmett won over.

"Good morning. How can I help you?" I managed, modulating my voice as best as possible to keep the annoyance from showing through.

"Good morning. I really needed to talk to you. About the car repair," she explained, and I let out a sigh.

Alice's parents still had no clue about what had happened, so I'd have to make up an excuse to delay the payment. Meeting Rosalie was the very least I owed her.

"Of course. I'm in class this morning, but any time between this afternoon and the end of the weekend is fine for us, I think. I'll just need to check with Alice," I mused out loud, wondering if there was another date scheduled with Jasper.

"I'll text you the directions. Tomorrow afternoon is the best time for me, so I'll see you then," she stated matter-of-factly, in the same cold voice, filled with disdain and indifference. Then, the call just ended.

_Have a nice day, Miss Social Skills._

Trying my best to ignore the fact that I'd just been ordered to meet with the beautiful ice cube, I quickly texted Alice with the plan and made my way to class, expertly charming my way out of the teacher's blacklist. All the while, I couldn't help but think that Emmett had, at least, been gracious enough to ask, and that was a tough adjective to associate with the big man.

Before my last mid-term, I spotted Jasper, and couldn't hold back a little smirk. In the middle of a sea of greenish faces and terrified expressions of those who were waiting for the seconds to lurch away, he stood out as the quiet blond man leaning against the doorframe. Even the book in his hand – a compendium about the Civil War – showed how very relaxed he was.

"Feeling confident?" I greeted, quietly enough to respect his peace.

"Hi, Bella, how's it going?" he answered back, his easy smile shinning through.

"Better after this is done. And you?"

"Got another one this afternoon. It's Alice's last, too. I was thinking of asking her to go out with me on Sunday, but I wanted your opinion," he stated, closing the book, and showing his first signs of lack of comfort by shifting his feet. "You see, there's this museum I was thinking of going to, but I really don't know if she'd appreciate it. She might think…" he trailed off, grimacing, and then decided on what to say. "It's boring," Jasper concluded, and I chuckled.

"Believe me, she'll love it," _just as long as you're there_, I mentally added.

He beamed, going back to his pleasant cool, and we exchanged a few words about our week. I couldn't resist mentioning Edward's surprise. Minus the fact that he'd given me the nightgown and robe – which Alice insisted was lingerie, to my utter mortification.

"Not just anyone would do something like that for you. And as well as he did, getting everything right," Jasper remarked, looking impressed.

"I don't think it would be right, coming from anyone else," I whispered back, and he just smiled.

I could barely resist the urge to hug him. Acceptance was a beautiful thing.

Fortunately, my final test was quick and painless and I nearly jumped out of my seat once I was finished, feeling the rush that came with the knowledge of being so close to your objectives.

This meant that Alice had, of course, different ideas, as she was expecting me when I left Psycology.

"What are you doing here? I thought Jasper said you still had one last mid-term," I pointed, coming across as grumpier than I'd aimed for.

"Just wanted to catch you to make sure we're going out to dinner tonight, since our Saturday afternoon went down the drain," she frowned, mirroring my own feelings.

"I'm… I just wanted to drop by Edward's. I never did thank him properly…" I trailed off, scared of the evil glint in her eyes and the smile her lips were slowly forming.

"No problem, who am I to hold you two love birds back?" Alice chuckled, and I groaned under my breath. "The offer stands, if you change your mind."

And, just like that, she skipped around me and started a conversation with Jasper; I didn't have to stay long to realize I wouldn't be sorely missed.

With a renewed spring in my step, I made my way to the, by now, familiar dorm, knocking on his door after straightening out my simple outfit, like some overexcited teenager.

At least, that's what I told myself.

After knocking three times, there was still no answer, and I decided to try the library. His phone was off – which certainly made things harder – but I was positive his mid-terms were over too.

As it was to be expected, the library was empty. Those who were through with being evaluated wouldn't be caught dead near a book, that weekend.

No signs of Edward whatsoever.

_You have got to be kidding me._

I went back to my own room and confirmed my plans with Alice, unable to conceal my mood as I assumed the part of the third wheel.

Dinner was a nice experience, even though I tried my best to stay out of the conversation, giving Alice and Jasper every bit of privacy I could while still sitting at the same table.

In their defense, they tried to include me as often as possible, and there were no awkward moments. They were the kind of couple who knew how to behave themselves in a social situation.

If anyone ruined the night, it was me.

Logically, I knew I had no claim over Edward, but couldn't help but be disappointed that he hadn't made plans for when the torture finally ended, or, at least, not with me. He hadn't even called.

Happy to have my Camry back, looking nice and shiny, I decided to call it an early night, with Jasper's promise to look after Alice.

Call me paranoid, but after the incident, I was still concerned.

In my last coherent moment, I went to get the CD player, with Edward's mix still inside, and relaxed to sleep listening to it, feeling quite pathetic.

I woke up to a much less enticing sound – my cell phone – and retrieved it to find a text message with an address, signed by Rosalie Hale.

I had a few other names for her right then, and I was pretty sure the Catholic Church wouldn't approve any of them.

Tumbling out of my bed, and in a foul mood altogether, I stomped my foot on a Microbiology book and shook Alice for a good long time.

"I'm up, I'm up," she mumbled, pulling the pillow closer, and I took a look out the window. My wristwatch, which I hadn't even taken off for the night, confirmed my suspicions; it was, indeed, Saturday afternoon already.

Muttering some more profanities, I gave Alice one last shove before taking a quick shower. By the time I was finished, she was standing outside with two bundles of clothing, only one eye open.

"Here, these are for you. I swear I could sleep until tomorrow. If that woman so much as tries to rile me up…" she informed, handing me my clothes for the day and marching inside the bathroom, uttering some very un-Christian thoughts of her own.

College students and their weekends off are not to be messed with.

We took my car, and I spared Alice some compliments for taking it to a good shop. They'd given it a much needed once-over, and I offered to pay half the cost, but Al wouldn't have it.

I'd just have to stand her attempts at making amends long enough for her to realize I wasn't upset.

The neighborhood the address indicated had all the characteristics of the typical American suburbia – the pretty houses with the green lawn at the front, one or two cars in the driveway. I was expecting something much different, but caught myself thinking this was one of those ideal places to raise kids.

Rosalie Hale did nothing by chance, or so it seemed.

We finally found the house – a faded yellow two-story homey-looking building – and stepped out of the car with a mix of wariness and annoyance.

Rosalie appeared from the back, her blonde hair pulled up in an artistically tousled bun, and greeted us, opening the door.

We stepped directly into the living room, and the sudden change of ambiance was striking. The sunny exterior had nothing to do with the interior, which was decorated with pitch black furniture and black and white accessories.

In the middle of the room, as a dramatic statement, was a big couch in blood-red velvet.

"Make yourselves comfortable," stated the statuesque blonde, in a voice that held no warmth whatsoever.

I went to seat at one end of the couch, but Alice outsmarted me, by gliding past the coffee table and taking the spot first. Cunning little pixie.

That was usually the time when the social animal in me took over, and I complimented the place as a matter of courtesy. Since there was really nothing I liked, I decided silence to be the best course of action.

"Let's get down to business. Here's the receipt for my M3's repair," Rosalie stated, picking up a piece of paper from the coffee table and thrusting it in my hands unceremoniously.

I took a look at the total, and then did a double take.

"I'm sorry, I think there'd been a mistake," I stuttered, and Alice's eyes went wide. She snatched the receipt out of my hand and stared at it, while Rosalie leaned back in the couch with a satisfied smirk.

"No mistake. I know because I'm one of the owners, so I supervised everything I didn't do myself. It's all there," the blonde insisted, and I opened and closed my mouth a couple of times, feeling like a goldfish.

I didn't know very much about cars, but I was fairly certain a repair that extensive didn't add up to those meager three figures.

"You didn't include the man hours," Alice whispered, her face falling. She knew the mistake was in her favor, but it wasn't in her nature to remain silent about it. That was my best friend.

"I did that on purpose."

Alice and I just stared at each other, and I resisted the urge to cock an eyebrow.

"Why?" I dared asking.

Shifting in her seat, our host examined her short nails with interest.

"I know Emmett turned to you after our… scuffle. And I don't know what you told him, but whatever it was, I feel I should thank you. When he came home, we talked and sorted our issues," she confided, and her blue eyes met mine, a rare softness in them. "It was really bad. You had no idea. I have my own bit of temper," I had to really refrain from snorting at that point, "and his bags were packed and everything. I know my view of things is quite different from yours, and you could have discouraged him from coming back… But you didn't. And I respect you for it."

Well, that was surprising.

"This is incredibly generous, Rosalie, thank you," I stated, truthfully. "I'm glad Emmett managed to put his fears of parenthood aside."

"Actually, we're not planning on being parents just yet," she smirked, confusing me. The idea of the burly man convincing her out of having kids was downright unbelievable. "It took him saying he'd do it for me to realize… that he loved me enough to sacrifice his own views for mine. So, I figured a couple of years wouldn't make a difference."

That seemed much more plausible.

"Congratulations, then," I smiled, and effusive Alice sprung up beside me to give Rosalie a hug. The blonde looked shell-shock for a good thirty seconds before responding to the impromptu show of affection, and I knew how she felt.

It had taken me some time to get used to it too.

After the stressful atmosphere was cleared, Rosalie presented a tray with tea and butter cookies, and we ended up settling for a nice chat. And, after two hours of gossiping like old ladies, «_Don't judge a book by its cover»_ never seemed so true. In Rosalie's case, though, you had to skip the first few chapters as well.


	24. Bringing the Heat

**Hi, everyone! My finals are here, so I might have some issues with updating as fast, but I won't leave you hanging – there will be updates. Scout's honor! **

**This one is specially… heated and long. Hope you enjoy it ;)**

_**Soundtrack: Muse – Hysteria**_** (this one being **_**ideal **_**for the mood I was trying to project, you'll see where)**_** /Melee – Built to Last **_

"Leave it alone, Al. If there was still any dust hidden somewhere, you would had scared it off already", I muttered, barely taking my eyes off of my laptop, enjoying the simple task of organizing my massive music collection.

"You're probably right," she agreed, setting down the cleaning products. Our room was reeking of them, but in a pleasant way; it was definitely a step up from the stench of Indian takeout. "I'm taking a shower, get rid of the filth. Are you calling Edward anytime soon?"

I pursed my lips, leaning back in my chair. It was Sunday afternoon, and he was yet to return my calls.

And I was stubborn enough not to call him either.

"And how would you know I want to call him?" I asked, since Alice's deductive abilities never ceased to impress me.

"You're peeking at your cell phone every two minutes, so I know you're expecting him to call" she answered, grimacing. Seeing my unhappy expression made her back off. "We need groceries, can you go while I'm out with Jasper?"

"Most definitely. I'm not letting you buy food again; the amount of chocolate you brought in for mid-terms was out of control. I can't even fit in my tight jeans anymore," I chided, knowing the little beauty was able to eat to her heart's content without adding an ounce to her weight.

"You needed your energy!" she defended, shutting the bathroom door roughly behind her.

I started organizing our desk space – the only surface Alice hadn't touched – as my cell phone rang. I could barely believe the caller I.D. read «Edward».

"Hello?"

"Bella," he simply answered, seemingly breathing out. "I missed you. You weren't at the pool yesterday"

"You weren't in your room either, Friday afternoon. Or the library. Or anywhere with a cell phone reception," I retorted in my chilliest tone, before I could filter it.

"I know, I'm sorry, I was working with Gaspard on a speech he was due to deliver, and by the time we were finished, it was too late to call. Were you resting, yesterday? Are you still sleeping well?"

I could practically feel my resolve to stay upset melting away. And what purpose would it serve? His absence was justified.

"Yes, I've been sleeping very well, don't worry. By the time I woke up it was too late to go down to the pool, and we had a meeting about Alice's accident," I explained, mirroring his own account of the events. "Why didn't you call, yesterday?"

As much as I tried to make it sound as a legitimate, logical question, it still came out as a four-year-old's tantrum.

"Giving you space," he retorted, before continuing. "I thought that was the message you were sending, by not showing up. And how was it, with McCarthy?"

"We talked to his girlfriend, actually," I smirked, proceeding to a play-by-play of the encounter, from the chilly manners to the tray of cookies.

"Women," Edward muttered, and I caught myself laughing out loud. "What are you doing tonight?"

"Out hunting for fruit, granola bars and milk. See you tomorrow morning?" I asked, trying to convey that I was planning on proximity, not space.

"I'll be the one by the door, holding your coffee," he answered, making me smile.

We were saying our goodbyes as Alice came out of the bathroom, steam still rising from her. A quick wink let me know she'd been eavesdropping – a habit we really needed to discuss – but I was too relaxed to care.

True to his word, as always, Edward was already waiting by the building as I rushed, twenty minutes ahead of time. I didn't want him to spoil his record as a good assistant on my account.

Feeling as if it had been too long since I'd last seen him, I dared quickly brushing his cheek with my lips, catching him off-guard, as he hadn't seen me approach. He smirked at my enthusiasm, but didn't return the gesture, eyeing our surroundings.

I could feel the eyes of our peers – most likely, females - burning holes on my back, but didn't manage to care. It wasn't an improper gesture in public, and Edward didn't seem to mind, once again.

"That means I'm forgiven, then?" he asked, handing me my steaming cup of cappuccino.

"Of course. I should have known you were working, it's just... Never mind, it doesn't matter. So, tell me about…"

I was about to ask about Gaspard's speech, but rational thinking fled my mind as we stepped into the building, side by side, to be replaced by an overwhelming sensation.

Searing warmth.

Not at all the cozy kind I'd grown accustomed to, which felt so welcoming after the freezing byte of the windy exterior.

It felt as if I'd stepped inside a baking oven, my mouth going instantly dry as a result of the heavy, suffocating atmosphere.

"They're saying it's an air-conditioning malfunction," an older student, to whom I'd never spoken before, supplied, observing our confused state. "If you think it's hot here, you should go upstairs; it's unbreathable."

Sighing, Edward grabbed both our sickeningly warm drinks and dropped them in the waste basket. I hoped the student was wrong, because Anatomy was on the second floor, and the classroom was usually stifling as it was.

"I can't believe this," Edward muttered, shrugging off his coat as I tried to balance out my heavy bag and taking mine off at the same time. Noticing my predicament, he wordlessly took my bag in his hands, and I moved to take off my scarf and mittens. "This class is going to be hell to get through."

Sparing my wool sweater an angry look, I could feel the temperature rising impossibly as we climbed the steps up to the class. The glass panels that lined the corridor walls allowed in the light, but not a whisper of wind; on a normal day, I would be happy for it, but right then all I could think of was to break one of them and take a breath.

I didn't carry a water bottle, and my throat felt parched.

Stepping into the classroom, Edward dropped my bag and his laptop case, stepping swiftly to the windows, trying to pry them open by force, mumbling incoherently about rusty hinges.

Deciding to help in any way I could, I took out the laptop and turned it on, setting up the presentation. I couldn't help but smile a little that "Bella's Folder" was still present in the desktop.

I could feel beads of sweat forming in my forehead, and propriety in public was looking less important by the second.

Blessing my good judgment in always putting on something underneath itchy materials, I stripped the wool sweater, reveling in the sudden relief when the air hit my overheated skin.

When I opened my eyes, Edward was staring at me, his mouth slightly agape.

I looked down to check myself – fearing, for a moment, that I'd forgotten to wear a top – that day, of all days – but the sight of plain blue cotton soothed me.

"It was too hot," I meekly explained myself.

"You're right," he agreed, shaking his head and taking off his own sweater, revealing nothing more than a white cotton t-shirt.

It was my turn to stare, hanging on to my last shred of logic for dear life.

I couldn't… I wouldn't… _I wanted to._

Biting hard on my lower lip, I watched him approaching – the hot air trickling with his proximity - and bend down to the laptop in front of me, giving me a wonderful view of his back muscles.

I sighed audibly, clutching the edge of the teacher's desk so I could resist the urge of ripping the nice cotton off his body.

"Good morning," the teacher rumbled, coming in and breaking me out of my lust-fueled thoughts.

Telling myself all the heat was affecting me, I plopped down on one of the front row seats, stretching my jean-clad legs in order to find some sort of comfort, stealing glances at Edward, who was talking in a low voice with Gaspard.

As the rest of the students filled in, I couldn't help but feel a little naked; I wasn't used to wearing a sleeveless top, since Forks never got warm enough. Alice would have approved, though.

The lights were dimmed and the class started, much to the dismay of many students. A rush of comments swept the room, mostly complaints about the temperature.

Edward came to sit by my side, and I looked ahead, willing myself to concentrate.

"You look beautiful in blue," I heard him whisper beside me, his murmur lost amidst the protests to everyone but me.

I shivered.

"You're not helping my self-control, Edward," I pleaded, and snuck a glance at him.

His hair was all over the place, with a couple of locks falling to his eyes. The green in them shone even in the dark classroom, and I clamped my eyes shut forcefully, letting out a shaky breath.

"You're not helping mine, either," he stated, in the same tone, and I nearly lost it. Nearly.

I had to focus. If only I could make it through that one class, I'd breathe fresh air again. I'd be able to think again.

Ready to burst into flames, I tried understanding the teacher's words, but all I could hear was his breath. My vision was blurry, my throat was aching.

The minutes were ticking away at a sluggish pace, and the rushed voices weren't helping me at all. I was pretty sure my back was starting to get wet and the top would cling to it. But, just by taking a look at my wool sweater, I was repulsed by the idea of putting it on again.

Edward was right beside him, and it was driving me crazy.

Fifteen minutes passed. Twenty. Twenty-one.

The class had something to do with several types of tissue and their repair mechanism, I was sure of it. From the very little I was able to catch.

He was so close I could feel his breath on my neck when he turned in my direction.

Thirty minutes went by. An hour and a half to go – sounded like an eternity.

I was going through my personal hell, as Edward accurately described it, unable to pursue either of my natural reactions.

Either flee or kiss him senseless – at the very least.

Even if I had a choice, I wasn't sure which one I'd go for.

The background noise never stopped, and I just wanted it to end.

"Quiet down! " Gaspard half-shouted, his firm voice hushing the class. "I can see we're not going anywhere today, so how about we postpone? I'll schedule the class for later this week, and Mr. Cullen will post the change on the online message board. Go on, get out of here," his voice trailed off, his sparkling personality showing through.

I silently thanked the unpleasant man, bolting out of my chair and grabbing my things faster than ever before, helping Edward with his. If I was to do the right thing and run away, it had to be right then.

We were out the door before most students even made it out of their seats.

"Bella," I heard Edward calling, keeping up with my rushed pace, and his hand came to rest at the small of my back.

I stiffened instantly, but it was too late. His touch had sent a strong shiver coursing through me, hypersensitive as I was.

The remainders of my control shattered, and I stopped walking.

Looking around quickly, I spotted an empty lab to the left, the door slightly open.

I caught Edward's hand and pulled him forcefully, doing a small run for it, to make sure no one saw us, shutting and locking the door behind me.

"What are we…" he started to ask, but my belongings were dropped to the floor and my mouth was on his before he could finish.

His soft lips molded to mine and I moaned, forgetting all about where we were, the heating problem, my need for water, air…

He reacted after a couple of seconds, holding my body closer to his and kissing me back just as fiercely, a rough groan emerging from his throat when our bodies started to move together in the heated embrace. My hands snaked over his broad chest to his shoulders, finally locking behind his neck, pulling him to me and I licked his lips, begging for more.

There was noise, people talking and walking in the corridor, but my brain dismissed it. The door was locked, we wouldn't get caught.

He opened his mouth for me, letting me taste him, cinnamon and sugar invading my senses, and I could feel my eyes rolling to the back of my head. Unconsciously, perhaps, I crushed myself closer to him, longing to feel more through our flimsy clothes, and pressed him against an empty counter, sliding one of his legs in between mine.

I could tell that was the breaking point for _his_ self-control.

Breaking our kiss instantly, he spun me around so I was the one against the counter, snaking his hands down to my thighs and using his strength to lift me so I was sitting on top of it.

I could feel all of these things, but saw none of it. His eyes held me there, in one piece, hooded and darkened with lust, his labored breathing coming out in spurts.

My hand acted of its own accord, reaching out for the flushed skin of his face, reveling in the pulsing warmth it gave off. The temperature of the air that surrounded us was forgotten; only his beckoned me closer.

My hand slid down under the curve of his jaw, and I was undone.

His perfect neck, pale and long, had always been the source of a particular fantasy of mine, and my brain knew, at this instance, no filters. I wasn't holding back on anything.

I wasn't sure I even knew how, anymore.

I pulled his neck to my mouth, tilting it to the side with a flicker of my wrist, exposing the wonderful skin. I nuzzled it, laying wet kisses over his pulse, up and down, over and over, enjoying the moment.

Edward emitted a small gasp, and the smile I was wearing must have been borderline predatorial.

Wanting to taste the skin, I took my time licking it, raking it with my teeth and feeling him shudder in response, his breaths speeding up. Enthralled by the taste and feel of his skin, I felt his hands enveloping my thighs, the skin underneath my jeans searing at the touch as he parted my legs further, coming to stand in between them and sighing heavily.

His mouth met mine again, passion, longing and urgency creating the most wonderful dance between us. We were so close, and yet not close enough.

Undiluted desire coursed through my veins, and I locked my legs around him, bringing him flush with me, my moan muffled by his strained groan as his hands caused havoc in the skin of my back.

He broke the kiss, panting heavily, and rested his chin on my shoulder, stopping all movement.

I got the queue and stopped moving altogether, too, but without breaking apart. I couldn't and wouldn't do that.

Still unable of rational thinking, I struggled to get control over my breathing, with little success. We might have stopped, but he was still too close for my lust frenzy to ebb away.

"We have to stop," he rasped out, and I could tell he was struggling with himself.

I could tell, because I was doing the same.

"We should," I agreed, and bit my own lip. My words and tone showed much less resolve than his.

"This can't happen," he growled, and took a step back, his eyes closed, clenching and unclenching his fists, straining his muscled arms. I straightened myself up, his words hitting me like a bucketful of cold water. "Not here," he explained, eyes open and watching my expression. "Not like this. I want you, you know that, but I won't settle for this. I want more, Bella, don't you?"

My head was still spinning from what had just happened, but I knew what he meant. How could I not, when I thought about it constantly?

About how sweet my life could be with him in it, always.

About the power I would be giving him by taking that step.

Maybe because of all my reasoning or maybe because of the lack thereof, following what had nearly happened, I did the unthinkable.

I hesitated. I froze.

"I don't know…"

At these words, a flash of anger passed through his eyes and he took another step back, jaw set, frustrated in every possible sense.

"You are so _infuriating_!" Edward half shouted, tugging his hair by the roots. "Unable to give us a chance! I can understand your fear of relationships, but I honestly can't forgive you for not trusting me, anymore! I have been absolutely patient," he stated, lowering his tone and pacing in front of me, "and I'll gladly keep it up but… Your justifications are _void_!" he shouted, his voice rising ever high. "Alice told me all about it, so I could understand you better. If you ended up hurting me, which I know you wouldn't, would it still be worth it?! _God, yes_! Just think, Bella, is your life worth living? It will still, surely and eventually, bring pain to those around you, and probably yourself, the day it ends. Things end, things bring pain, but that doesn't make them worthless, it makes them _precious_!"

Still sitting on top of the granite counter, I froze in shock.

I was facing the man I loved, the only man whom I'd ever loved, and I was being taught, quite possibly, the greatest lesson of them all.

Right then, my mind and heart were set.

We'd make it work.

School would come first, because we still had a future to look forward to. But it would be more bearable, because we'd face it together.

"Yes."

My voice cut through the warm air and his frantic pacing, clear and firm.

"Yes to what?" Edward asked, a crease in his forehead, searching my face for something, anything, any indication of what I might be thinking.

"I believe you, and I trust you. If it had been anyone else I wouldn't, but it's you," I stated, truthfully, and reached out for his face, watching the crease slowly being replaced by a glimmer in his eyes and a smile on his lips. "We'll make it work."

"Girlfriend and boyfriend? A proper, official couple?" he insisted, for the sake of clarification, and I smirked, resisting the urge of sticking out my tongue at his old-fashioned ways.

"If you'd be happy with me being your proper, official girlfriend, then, yes," I stated, simply, loosing myself in the bright smile that reached his eyes.

Picking me up in his arms, Edward twirled me around, ignoring my protests and laughs, kissing me; short, chaste kisses, filled with sweetness.

For now, of course, they would suffice. The now was just the start of forever.


	25. Our Own Little World

**Author's note:**

**I'm still grinning ear-to-ear, remembering all the wonderful reactions last chapter earned. I know, I know, I've kept you all waiting, but the expectation was part of it, and the crescendo was justified and logical. Or, at least, I believe it was.**

**Anyway, for those of you under the impression that Static is nearing its end – fear not! Or celebrate not ;) Because there is still quite a bit to come! Excuse me, in advance, for the possible sappiness, but it really was inevitable.**

**For the first time, I'd like to issue a challenge: where do you think the story goes from here? I'm curious about what's going on in your minds, let me know!**

**Soundtrack: Muse – New Born / Coldplay – Sparks**

"I could get used to this," I sighed, before taking another red grape in my mouth, leaning back with a smile.

After we were down with classes for the day, Edward and I both agreed we wanted to spend some time together on our own, which excluded my dorm room.

That was how we came to sit on top of a green blanket sprawled on his bedroom floor, eating sweet grapes. The bed was too much of a suggestive alternative, especially after that morning's events, and I wasn't complaining; with my back pressed against Edward's warm and firm chest and sitting between his legs, eating the delicious fruit, I was in my own personal heaven.

"Mmm, I'm counting on it," Edward replied, with one arm around my waist and another holding the grapes. When he started nuzzling my throat and my thought pattern began blurring, I knew I had to say something before losing that function as well.

"Are you taking revenge on the neck thing from this morning?" I asked, mischievous.

He inhaled a lungful of my scent before answering.

"The neck thing, we really, _really_ need to discuss," he stated, gravely.

"We do?"

I was trying hard to match his tone, but couldn't help the big smile I was wearing.

"Let's just say," I could hear him swallow at this point, "my neck is a very… sensitive area, and you'd be doing a great deal of good to my self-control if you kept your lips… and _teeth_, away from it."

His voice was serious, so I couldn't help but pout.

"I really like your neck," I whispered, whining a little, leaning back with my head on his shoulder so I could see his face.

"I got that impression," he smirked, warming me in every possible way, his hand moving in soft caresses over my stomach.

It was always there. That ever present tension and pull between us.

And it was an immeasurable relief and joy to give in to it.

I was expecting to have been scared, filled with doubts and second-thoughts, but I wasn't.

I was still the same student, walking in for my second and third classes of the day. I was still playing attention, and I was just as confident of myself and my passion for what I was doing.

I was still me; only happier, fulfilled in every sense.

And that was something I had never actually expected. Because I hadn't changed the path I truly wanted, or the things I truly valued.

I'd only admitted to them.

And, with Edward's strong arms around me, I felt about as enveloped in bliss as a human being possibly could.

"I can work with that," I managed, in between kisses. "Anything else I should know?"

He seemed to mull that over for a while before answering.

"No, but I would like to hear your guidelines, since I stated my only one; it's only fair."

His words took me by surprise, but I quickly managed to come up with the things I wanted him to know.

"Alright. I guess the first one would be «work comes first». It's our freshman year in Dartmouth, there's still a lot to come, so it would probably be for the best if we gave each other space for that particular purpose."

I could see his eyes widening slightly, a little tug of his lips at my statement. «A lot more to come» had never sounded better to me, either.

"I can work with that," he mimicked, making me chuckle. "What else?"

"Well, this one is more of an incentive, really, but it would mean a lot to me if you tried to, at the very least, co-exist peacefully with my friends. Namely, Al and Jasper; aside from you, they're all I have here."

He nodded, smiling. "Very reasonable; anything else?"

I bit my bottom lip, afraid of what his reaction might be. I almost chickened out, but decided to get on with it at the last moment:

"Trust and honesty."

As my words sunk in, Edward sat, very still, before lacing one arm under my knees and pulling me so I was cradled in his arms, making me yelp in surprise.

"You deserve no less, and I wouldn't have it any other way" he assured me, his green eyes burning through mine.

Completely unaware of which one of us had closed the distance, I found my lips pressed against his and shuddered in a high of possessiveness, a characteristic I had never before associated with myself.

_My boyfriend_, Edward Cullen.

At the thought, I nipped softly on his plump bottom lip, bringing it between mine and sucking on it, earning myself a barely perceptible groan.

I lost track of time, reveling in the soft way he rubbed my sides up and down and the cinnamon and sugar taste of his mouth, with a hint of grapes. My hands had plenty to busy themselves with – whether the soft locks of his hair or tracing his muscular back.

He kept his body hovering above mine, as we lay on the floor, but once in a while his control over himself would slip and I could feel him against me – never a crushing weight, only a welcome contact – making me sigh in pleasure.

He'd always shake his head and pull away again, but I could hear it in the way his breathing picked up; he was just as affected as me.

"It's getting dark," he managed in a whisper between kisses. Propping myself up on my elbows, I noticed the mischief in his eyes. I could tell he had a question hidden behind them, one he dared not ask.

I understood, because the chemistry between us was undeniable; I knew he, too, wanted things to feel right, and that day wouldn't be the day.

So, for the sake of our sanity and of doing things right, we ignored the king-size bed inches away from us and got up.

Edward got our coats from the hanger by the door, turning to me with a pout when he saw me straightening my wool sweater.

"I liked the blue top much better," he dared say, blood rushing to my face.

"You'll see it again in the summer," I joked, and his pout grew more pronounced as I chuckled.

On our way to my dorm, he surprised me by reaching for my hand, linking his fingers with mine.

We stared into each other's eyes for a while as we walked, and I knew that, even though he was smiling, he was silently checking if it was okay with me.

Smiling back, I squeezed his hand and we went through campus. And, for once, I really did check my surroundings.

One thing I was certain: most of those who crossed paths with us had no idea of what being subtle meant. The general behavior consisted of blatantly ogling us and sneaking commentaries, which really started to anger me. Edward must have noticed, though, bringing my hand to his mouth and planting a soft kiss on the skin of the back, trying to calm me down.

"We might as well be carrying a sign strapped to our necks," I muttered, but shrugged it off quickly, focusing on all the good things happening in my life at the moment. I couldn't let humanity's collective amount of idiocy rob me of that.

"They're mostly staring at me," Edward assured me, "talking about how lucky I am to be with you."

I shook my head, chuckling at the obvious role reversal, and decided that I was pretty tired of being the object of insane gossip, ever since high school.

And, just like that, I blocked them out; it was easy enough to clear the rest of the static from my life, now that it all felt so much more real, heartfelt and natural. I was letting things be.

My life was no longer divided into parts, there were no inner voices to qualm, and it could only turn out better than any of my plans.

So I felt as if we were alone, walking hand in hand to my room, like two kids in love, the rising moon and the green tall lamps lighting our way in between the trees.

All too soon, I was standing at my door, and I was about to kiss my boyfriend goodnight as the door opened, both of us jumping back in surprise.

"Bella! What the blazes took you so long, I've been waiting… Oh, hi Edward," she smiled, evaluating our still joined hands and obvious smiles.

"Can we come in?" I hissed through my teeth, hoping she'd understand the need of having this particular conversation inside our private room, and not in a very public corridor.

As she stepped out of the way, opening the door further, I tried as best as I could to stifle my amusement.

Edward was wearing the cutest expression, a mixture of determination and panic.

In a way, I understood; making things official before Alice was the equivalent of meeting the parents.

"Were you guys together the whole day?" she asked, taking turns to look at the both of us excitedly.

"Yes, we were," Edward stepped up, which was pretty impressive, taking in account how nervous I could tell he was. "We decided to spend some time alone, since Bella agreed to be my girlfriend this morning."

Conversation was temporarily impossible due to Alice's squeals while she hugged us, and I could see how much fun Edward was having with her reaction. After she was done with comments such as «That's so great» and «I'm so happy for you both», we sat and talked for a little while.

Edward was absolutely believable in his account of events, which involved a mature conversation and declaration of our feelings for each other.

Alice was happy with it, and so was I.

Because the fact that I'd locked myself with him in an empty lab during an impressive rush of lust would be nothing short of mortifying to share.

Because we hadn't actually declared our feelings for one another, per se. We both knew that saying the words or not was irrelevant. Only the reality of what we felt truly mattered.

Because there had been no question on his part; only an admission of how my hesitance was hurting him and how my fears didn't make any sense.

Because the moment of realization I'd shared with him had been nothing short of beautiful.

And, most of all, because all of this was private, just between the two of us, and we were the only ones who could make sense of it.

For those reasons and for those reasons alone I was able to lie to my best friend, sitting on my bed beside Edward, as relaxed as I'd been in his room.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"That must be Jasper," Alice informed, getting up and bouncing all the way to the door in her cheery self. "They're a couple!" she informed him, yelling as he came into view.

Edward's laughter filled the room, and any annoyance I might have dissipated as my blond friend came into our room.

"About time!" he greeted, shaking hands with Edward and sharing his big smile with us.

After repeating our story to Jasper – with Alice's help – Edward got up, shooting me an apologetic smile.

"I should be going back," he started, but Alice got on her feet quickly.

"No! C'mon, this deserves a celebration! How about a poker night?" she suggested, quickly getting our poker set.

We took our gaming very seriously, me and Al; back in High School, we made a bet about Mike Newton, and I'd lost. And, because of it, prom was not an enjoyable experience.

"I don't want to be forced to take your lunch money, Brandon," Edward teased, coming back to sit by my side.

"I don't know, Edward, she's pretty vicious," I warned, and he dramatically placed a hand over his chest, faking hurt. I was only looking out for him, though; her uncanny ability of predicting her opponent's hand had been the demise of much more experienced players.

"I should probably let you guys know I'm a master at chess, Risk, and possibly every other strategy game there is, so you'll be left with lighter pockets," Jasper smirked, and we all rearranged our scarce furniture to allow space for the game to develop.

Three rounds later, we were getting into it; Jasper had won the first two and Edward the third. Of course we weren't playing for money, but that didn't keep us from bantering the entire time.

"Who's up for some Chinese?" Alice asked, getting up to get the phone.

Edward turned to me with a smirk, and I spoke up:

"Actually, we had that for lunch. How about something else?"

As she called for pizza, I scooted closer to my boyfriend, staring unabashedly as if I could touch him with my gaze.

Yes, he'd done the romantic thing and called the same Chinese take-out place I'd called our very first dinner, on the library steps.

He'd even remembered my order.

Because this was Edward, and nothing else mattered. We could have been surrounded by thousands of people, and it _still _wouldn't matter.

Because we were just two kids in love, in our own little world.


	26. Bittersweet Revelations

**You guys just blow me away. The two previous chapters earned well over one hundred reviews combined, and that's astounding in itself. I can't believe I have such amazing readers, so lots of love to you all.**

**I know I'm a bad writer, and that this chapter took forever – by my standards – and I'm really sorry! But hey… finals. Applied Maths, Molecular and Celular Biology and Anatomy I. Need I say more?**

**Soundtrack: **_**Iron and Wine – The Trapeze Swing**_** (for the last part).**

The temperature had dropped dramatically in the following days, but, fortunately, the air conditioning was now functioning as it should in every building, and I couldn't have cared less. By Friday, I was really looking forward to having some time to just be with Edward, despite the activity or context.

Because our little project of a routine – and, to me, routine had never sounded as sweet and exciting – was incredible, but not enough.

Right after class ended, we'd meet up for lunch and talk a little about our day, often joined by Jasper and Alice. It was our quiet little group – well, quiet except for Al, of course – that always made me feel at home, and every worry I might have slowly faded away by just sharing it.

My newly established relationship exceeded my expectations; Edward was, indeed, making an effort, and his shaky connection with Jasper was growing stronger, or so it seemed. Alice was thrilled about the whole thing, but I could see how she genuinely liked my boyfriend.

We'd made the silent agreement of always walking back, hand in hand, to his room after lunch, since it was quiet, bright, and held all the resources necessary for what we were there to do. Which, for the time being, mainly consisted on studying.

That was the second unspoken rule. The Switch rule.

For an undetermined amount of time, we'd work in silence, occasionally comparing notes if working in the same subject, and really trying our bests not to lock eyes or look at each other's lips. The switch would be off, or at least as off as it could be. At times, we'd sneak a brief kiss, but swiftly got back to whatever we were doing.

After either one of us was finished, all bets were off, and the switch was back on with a vengeance.

While sitting in Biochemistry, I made my best not to allow my mind to drift back to those moments.

Class was nearing its end when Mrs. Jones, my Pathology teacher, came in quietly and took a seat in the front, giving us all a smile and a short nod in greeting.

I could feel the mood lifting, my own included.

Mrs. Jones was, by far, my favorite teacher; standing maybe a couple of inches taller than Alice, her salt and pepper hair was usually well groomed around her clean, radiant face. She was one of those singular human beings that age treated kindly, adding only what seemed a bright halo of warmth around her. Treating all of her students with care and respect, she knew the name of every single one of us, and her classes were never a lecture, but an ongoing conversation.

I kept waiting for her intervention, but our usual teacher finished her lecture and briefly greeted her colleague before gathering her things, as I did mine.

To my surprise though, the Pathology teacher came straight to my chair, eyeing me with that ever present warm smile.

"Good morning, Bella. I was hoping we could talk for a little while?"

I merely nodded, surprised enough to forget common courtesy.

As to be expected, the older woman took the empty seat next to mine, forcing me to lower my gaze in order to keep eye contact.

"As you probably already heard, dear, I've been left in a bit of a predicament, since my junior colleague has just filed for maternity leave. I was able to shuffle my schedule around, mostly to ensure everything will be just the same when she comes back, but I'm in dire need of a researcher. And I was wondering if you'd be interested," she explained, swiftly but graciously nonetheless.

Gathering myself, I was able to scoop up my jaw off the floor in time to give an answer.

"Mrs. Jones, are you offering me a job as an official part of the faculty staff?" I managed out.

"Oh, but don't take it that seriously," my teacher dismissed, waving her hand in front of me. "It will just be upon my request, and you'll be given free reigns. Can you start next week?"

"Of course," I blurted out, much too bluntly; still, I couldn't help myself, as the gears of my brain turned. "Mrs. Jones," I called back, seeing her getting up, "I'm flattered and honored that I was even considered, but… Why exactly am I being offered the job?"

That was the million dollar question. I was positive I'd done well on my mid-terms, but we were in Dartmouth, so chances were my best was far behind the class top.

In any instance, I was just an average student, apart from the small period of time working as an assistant, and that hadn't turned out so well.

My teacher opened her mouth once, but hesitated; I could see her being careful with her words as she gave her answer:

"I had a talk with Professor Gaspard the other day, regarding your work for Anatomy I in the beginning of the semester. You're a model student, of course, but I'll admit you owe him this opportunity."

She winked, then, and we said our goodbyes as I quietly tried to put the pieces together, freaked out of my skull.

In a flash decision, I gathered my things and rushed my way out of the building, hoping Gaspard was in his office.

Fortunately, when I reached the door and knocked, his obnoxious grunt floated to me:

"Come in."

I pushed in the door, pretty much at a loss of what to say, but determined to get some answers.

"Good morning, Sir," I greeted, and the tall man had the decency to look away from his paperwork.

"Miss Swan," he simply acknowledged.

I took a deep breath and figured straight honesty would be my best bet.

"Sir, Mrs. Jones approached me today with an offer as a researcher for the Pathology department," I stated, never one to beat around the bush.

"That's good for you, Miss Swan," was his sarcastic reply, lowering his eyes back to his work.

I had to remember Mrs. Jones' words one by one, trying to keep my anger towards him at bay.

"There was also a mention that your take on my work for Anatomy I was the decisive element in giving me the opportunity," I said, my voice sharp and acidic against my best efforts. When I saw Gaspard's shoulders stiffen, I knew I was on to something, so I kept going, "which I really can't understand, since I was humiliated and wrote off as a disappointment."

He gave up his calm façade, then, dropping his heavy pen and sighing as he met my furious gaze.

"I meant every single one of the compliments that I passed on to the other teachers, as much as I felt disappointed by your actions," he stated, and continued before I could yell at him in a fit of anger. "I have studied here, and been invited to stay right after I was done with my education. So, it's fair to say that I've seen a lot during all those years, Miss Swan, and I don't form judgments about my students with a light heart.

"It was easy to see that your relationship with Mr. Cullen went beyond good friends, and, even though that is entirely your business, I still expected you to put it aside and present me with something that demonstrated your commitment. Mr. Cullen had a romantic approach, but you… You gave me nothing," he simple stated, holding his empty palms to me in a gesture of surrender, "nothing I could base my decision on and I knew then, as I know now, you could have impressed me with your skills. But you chose not to, and that, Miss Swan, is unforgivable.

"I've seen many good students throw their futures out the window because they couldn't separate their feelings from their work. And I would be a very poor teacher if I didn't call you up on it. That being said, I wish you the best of luck with this new position."

My knuckles were white, strained, and my jaw was clenched so hard it was painful. I had never been one for violent impulses, but, once again, this poor excuse of a man brought up the worst in me.

"Thank you, Sir," I managed, in between my teeth, and left the room, blind in anger.

I was angry at Gaspard, sure, but mostly at myself.

Because, as much as it sickened me, he was right. And I almost caved under the impulse of blurting out that I had, in fact, worked on earning it, but managed to stay under control.

Of course, the reason for both was one and the same. And, even if I couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that came with it, I couldn't exactly be sorry for it either.

I had given up things for Edward, yes, but so what? He wasn't with me for it. He would never know about any of it, no one did. I did the honorable, albeit stupid thing. I did what anyone in love would do, trying to show their best side to the world, not the competitive beast in them.

And, if there was such a thing as karma, I couldn't exactly complain either. I'd just been offered a better job, working for a much more pleasant teacher, and I really loved Pathology.

_Take that, dimwit._

Too late to make it for Psychology, I was still brooding about the whole thing and walking around, killing time before lunch, when I got a text from Edward:

_I'm a bit under the weather, so tell the guys I'm sorry I won't make it today. See you later*_

My blood ran cold at his words. Under the weather?

Forgetting all about the morning's events, I made a b-line for my boyfriend's room, texting Alice to let her know we wouldn't be joining them.

"What's wrong, how are you feeling?" I asked, as soon as Edward opened the door, and sucked a breath.

His eyes were rimmed in red, a slight blush spreading on top of his nose and cheeks, creating a stark contrast to his overly pale skin. But, of course, his mouth was set in that beautiful smirk.

"I knew I shouldn't have said anything," he whispered, as I moved to hold him. In spite of his words, his arms were welcoming, encompassing me in a warm hold. I brushed the strands of his hair with my fingers over and over, a small blob of panic pulsing deep inside. "I'm fine, it's probably just a cold; my throat felt soar yesterday, which was a tell-tell sign. All I need is a nap, and I'll be good as new by tonight," he assured me, leaning away from me just enough to allow eye contact. "Still, you might want to keep your distance, or you might…"

I cut off his statement as quickly as possible:

"I have an amazing immune system, so you'll have to come up with something better than that to keep me away."

He beamed at my words, walking backwards towards the bed and pulling me along.

"So, how about that nap?"

I smiled back mischievously, but broke our embrace.

"Tell you what: I'll join you after we see to your lunch," I negotiated, putting on my best charm. Edward groaned, tilting his head to the side, but I wasn't moved. "No way you're skipping meals, especially if you want to get better. What kind of girlfriend would I be if I let you do that?"

"A merciful one?" he asked, with a hopeful expression. I just glared at him, crossing my arms in front of my chest. Finally, he caved: "I'm not that hungry… But I brought some chicken soup and sandwiches from the cafeteria; they're in the white bag on top of the chair."

"I knew there were smarts to you," I joked, shooting him a smile and walking to the desk chair to check out our options. Apparently, he was much hungrier than I'd given him credit for; the bag held two soup containers, a couple of water bottles and six sandwiches – tuna and chicken, his and my favorites. When I turned to tease him about being ready to feed an army, the words died in my throat.

Actually, pretty much any rational thinking was beyond me.

My God-like boyfriend was by the closet, undressing himself. His button up shirt had already been thrown on the bed, and I could tell he was unbuttoning his jeans, even though his back was to me. I had seen him at the pool, sure, but this was different; I was three steps away from him and we were all alone, in private. In his room, by his bed.

I lost myself, tracing his back with my eyes; every curve, every indent, calling to me. I could barely hold the urge to close in the distance and trace it with my mouth.

In my dazed state, it took me a second to register the fact that his jeans were, in fact, sliding down.

Blatantly ignoring the fact that I should turn away and give him some privacy, I allowed myself to completely appreciate the curve of his torso, the two pronounced indents on his lower back, and the very, very alluring part of his anatomy that rested bellow them, to which his swim trunks had paid no justice whatsoever.

_Holy crap._

"What was that?"

Edward turned to me, now clad in sweatpants and a t-shirt, and I really hoped my efforts to keep a straight face were paying off. Chewing off my lip, I gave him a brief smile and faked a keen interest on the bag, really trying to take my mind off of what I had seen, chastising myself for my idiotic reactions.

Sucking a breath, I got more than enough food for the both of us and stepped closer to the bed, noticing he was already nestled in, propped on his pillows, his head tilted back and eyes closed.

He'd never looked as fragile.

I'd come to think of him as the picture of health, but looking at him now I could see just how drained he truly seemed to be. Dartmouth was taking its tow on him, and I really wished I could shield him from it all.

And, even though I couldn't, I knew I could at least make it a little bit more bearable.

Carefully, I set our little improvised picnic on his bedside table and, as quietly as possible, searched his dresser drawers for sleepwear. I found the same shorts he'd once leant me and a much too big Saint Patrick High t-shirt.

I could hear his even breath as soon as I left the bathroom, and watched him sleeping for a minute. The sight of his – nearly – bare body caused a reaction in me, yes, but this was different.

There was a different pull in the way I looked at him now, and different emotions at play. The urge to soothe him, to make him more comfortable, cared for, loved.

And I knew that, though I might lust for Edward Cullen – and, by Hippocrates, I did – I loved him more.

I slipped under the covers, causing the least disturbance possible, and wondered whether waking him up would, in fact, be the best course of action.

The eerie glow of sweat on his forehead let me know he was probably in the early stages of a fever, and I sighed. As much as he wanted to downplay his cold, I could probably get him to stay in bed during the weekend. If being with him for the duration helped, then I'd gladly pay the price.

"Edward," I whispered, scooting closer to him and kissing his brow, his eyes, the corner of his lips. "Edward, please wake up."

His eyes opened fractionally and he smiled, snaking his arm around my waist and pulling me even closer.

"You look great in my t-shirt, but you look even better in my bed," he teased, and I just smiled back. "And all it took was getting sick."

I chuckled with him, getting him the bowl of soup and sitting back with my sandwich, comfortably settled in the curve of his strong arm, insisting that he'd at least eat something to keep his strength.

No sooner his lips touched the soup, he grimaced, and I gave him a sympathetic smile.

"That good, hein?"

He stuck his tongue out in disgust, and I let out a snicker.

"I guess it's a blessing that my sense of taste isn't as accurate as usual," he reasoned, and quickly went through it, polishing off half a tuna sandwich as well.

Both of us done with our meal, he gave me a pleading look and I nodded, cleaning up quickly and nestling by his side, relishing the warmth he gave off.

"Thank you," I breathed, nuzzling his chest. Edward's arm tightened around my shoulders, and a few seconds later came his deep, slurred voice:

"What for?"

"Listening to me," I stated, simply.

"I'll always listen to you, Bella. And I'll always make sure to stay close enough to never miss a word of it."

I slid up so we were at eye level and kissed him, slowly but demanding nonetheless, enjoying the contact our movements provided, since his body was flush with mine. I didn't have the words to tell him, not yet; none of it came effortlessly to me yet. But I could still let him see how I felt.

Knowing he needed rest, I eventually pulled back, mourning the loss of his warm, wet lips, the taste of cinnamon and sugar still in my mouth.

"Let's get some sleep," I whispered, more to myself than him, admiring his green eyes, half hooded with exhaustion and, hopefully, my kiss.

"Right," he replied, cocking an eyebrow. "You do that, and then I'm supposed to fall asleep?"

I chuckled, embarrassed, and slid back down. And, in spite of his complaints, I could hear his breathing deepen as I ran my hand through his hair. Letting the sweet sound lull me back to sleep, I eventually spiraled away too.

And, even as I did, I realized that I had found more than a spot to nestle myself in. I'd finally found my place in the world – by him.


	27. The Dawn Of It All

**I'm being a really nice writer here, updating during finals. **

**This was the first chapter that just… slipped out of my control, and was written before I knew what was happening. It's a little bit auto-biographical and I love it, so hopefully you all will too!**

**Soundtrack: (for the last part) **_**Coldplay – Lovers in Japan –Acoustic Version**_

I could tell this much about Edward: he'd been spoiled as a child.

Of course, his education was flawless and you'd never know that… Unless you had to deal with him sick on bed-rest. The fact that I was the one insisting on said bed-rest was completely beside the point; it was still the best way for him to fight the cold and regain strength.

That didn't keep him from pouting and constantly apologizing for ruining my Friday; it took my admission of just how much I was enjoying spending it in bed – _with him_ – for Edward to finally relax.

"Are you sure I'm not keeping you from any work, though?" he asked, pulling me so my back was to his chest while he played on the keyboard.

"No, it's fine, don't worry," I answered, instinctively, and then recalled that morning's events. "I forgot to tell you, but Jones came to find me after Biochemistry."

"What did she want?" Edward asked, carefully, and I could see his brow furrowing, since his chin had taken residence on my shoulder. I let out an involuntary sigh at the close contact before catching my thoughts.

"Your girlfriend is the newest researcher for the Pathology Department," I announced.

"That's so great!" he cheered, obviously excited. "I'm proud of you."

I pulled back to look in his eyes, and leaned in for a short kiss while he gave my waist a gentle squeeze.

I couldn't very well tell him the whole story, and I knew he'd rip Gaspard's head off if I told him about that last impromptu meeting. Remembering his reaction when the Professor had last humiliated me, I knew my worries were founded.

We discussed the few details I knew about the job over dinner, and I searched him for any signs of discomfort with it, but found none. I wasn't exactly expecting him to be unhappy about it, but it would cut our time together, probably significantly.

But I should have known he'd understand; he was Edward.

"I should take a shower," he mused out loud, dramatically pulling his collar to his nose and taking a whiff, making me chuckle. "I feel like a slob."

"You're not a slob, Edward," I countered, knowing full well he still smelled fresh and masculine as always. But there were other things in my mind: "But go shower, then, and I'll be going for the night."

If I thought he'd been pouting before, I hadn't seen anything yet.

"You don't have to go," he answered, using the full power of his big green eyes and plump bottom lip.

"Of course I have to… We've been inside our little bubble all day, Alice will kill me," I replied, realizing the truth of my own words as I said them.

"Don't worry about that," he smirked, and jumped out of bed before I could blink.

"Edward?" I tried, but he was already back, clutching his cell phone and dialing, silencing my lips with his own and winking playfully.

"Just listen," he breathed, and I sat back on my pillow, arms crossed. "Alice?" he coughed then, and even though it seemed genuine, I knew it wasn't; he was smiling, and hadn't coughed all afternoon. "Yeah, Bella's with me. I've got this… terrible cold," he explained, punctuating his speech with a fake almost-sneeze, "and she's been with me all day. She's in the shower now." I opened my mouth to protest, but he raised a finger. "I think she's a bit tired, would you mind terribly if she stayed with me tonight?" More fake coughing. "Right. Okay, will do, have a nice night."

I just stared at him while he gave me an angelic smile.

"You're a dangerous creature," I managed, in awe of his acting skills.

"And now I can go take that shower without worrying about you sneaking away while I'm there," he answered, obviously proud of himself. I just chuckled and shook my head.

While he showered, I found myself inexplicably tired. I had, indeed, taken a nap, but it had been a long week and we'd spent most of the afternoon listening to music, talking, and occasionally he'd play. I'd almost shed a tear or two – happy as I was that he was comfortable enough with me to share such a part of himself.

I clicked off the lights, listening to the soothing murmur of the shower water. Wondering how I'd ever come to deserve all of this – to deserve my boyfriend.

To my own surprise, I stirred awake as he came back to bed, smelling of soap and toothpaste. I forsake everything else when he pulled me to him so my head was resting on his shoulder, the place I'd come to think of as my spot, and felt the soft pressure of his kisses on my head. How could I not go back to sleep with a smile on my lips?

It was the cold that awoke me – since the covers had slid off my left shoulder during the night.

Rising my head minutely, I tried to check on Edward – but it was too dark. Hearing his breathing let me know he was sound asleep, and there was no heaviness that indicated the cold had taken a turn for the worse. Good.

I almost let myself go back to sleep – and it was so easy and tempting to do so – but, eventually, my instincts lost the battle. Slowly, I managed out of bed and gingerly put on my clothes, checking the time and leaving the room as quietly as possible.

My own was just as dark – and Alice had, evidently, stirred a lot, since most of her covers were on the floor, and she was shivering slightly as she snored. Pulling those up, I heard her sigh in contentment and skipped away to the bathroom, feeling wonderful and alive even though I'd had four hours of sleep.

A shower and a change later, my plans for the morning were clear, and those included coming back to Edward's warm and cozy bed after running a few errands.

Remembering the shorts and t-shirt I'd used the day before, I silently searched my drawer for the beautiful set of sleepwear Edward had given me and exited the room, skipping as I did.

The night was just beginning to brighten as I pulled over to an old bakery and café and tapped on the door, really hoping they were open that early.

A short and round, soft-looking woman came to the door, greeting me with a smile and ushering me to the back.

"What did you came for, dear?" she asked, as if people coming in at five thirty in the morning was just a usual occurrence.

"Do you have any apple cinnamon bagels?" I asked, feeling silly for being so specific, but I knew it was his favorite.

"I'll get you a bag," she simply answered, and graciously agreed to fill my thermos with frothy cappuccino.

"I know I've bothered you enough," I admitted, holding the bag with care, "but I was wondering if you knew of any restaurants around that might serve at this hour… Even just soup would be great," I voiced, remembering Edward's struggle with the poor excuse for food they served at our cafeteria.

"Well," the woman answered, thinking for a while, "there's this company around the corner; they mostly cater for events, but they might have the kitchen open."

"Thank you so much," I smiled, paying for the goods and including a gracious tip.

"The young man better deserve it," she teased, quite insightfully, and I couldn't help but blush a little, smiling.

"He most certainly does," was my only answer.

"Don't let it slip away from you, then. Good things are hard to come by," she stated, as a goodbye.

I was still thinking about it as I stepped out of my car, back in campus, laden with food. The catering company had most certainly come through for me – and I was carrying two complete meals straight out of a wedding's menu, minus the desert, which I really had to control myself not to buy as well. But, really, what were the chances of strawberry ice cream lasting until lunch?

Carrying my «sleepover» bag and all my purchases, I carefully entered Edward's room – having taken the keys earlier, which I felt guilty for – and set everything down, noticing how bright it was now that the sun was starting to come up.

The orange and golden light was filtering through the big east-oriented window, since the curtains were open, and the sight before me took my breath away.

Edward hadn't shifted since I left, and his arm was still outstretched to the empty spot beside him, his face turned in that direction as well. Light and shadow fought for dominance over his beautiful face, but it was easy for me to declare the winner. The rays of sunshine hit his skin and hair just right, and his reddish mane seemed on fire, impossibly enhancing his sleeping features.

And nothing had ever been this beautiful.

Nothing could rival the sight of him, away from this world, tangled up on the soft sheets, his chest heaving with each breath.

I changed into my silk nightgown by the wall opposite the window, too afraid of walking right past to the bathroom and disturbing him. Or, at least, that's what I told myself; the truth was, I really couldn't take my eyes off him, too afraid it would go by without me properly committing it to memory. And I knew then I'd always be able to remember it in the years to come, with perfect clarity.

Ever so slowly, I eased myself under the covers, distributing my weight so the shift on the mattress wouldn't wake him, and laid on my side, still completely enraptured. And it was several minutes until his breathing pattern changed and his vibrant green eyes fluttered open.

"Bella?" he beckoned, in his deep, smooth voice.

I scooted closer, maintaining eye contact, and snuggled into my spot – in his shoulder, in my world. Sighing, he drew his other arm around me and closed his eyes; for a moment, I believed he'd fallen right back to sleep.

But then, a soft crease appeared in his forehead and I watched him as he really took me in – no doubt having noticed the different texture of my sleeping attire.

Looking more alert by the second, he pushed the covers away slowly, and sucked in a breath.

"God have mercy… " He rasped out, something I wasn't entirely sure I was supposed to hear.

He traced my bare arm with his finger and eyes as I stayed very still, and I realized he was seeing me as I'd seen him. I couldn't understand – and probably never would – but it didn't matter, as he traced the fiery patterns in my skin with his gaze. It only mattered that Edward found beauty in me.

His hand settled in the dip of my waist, and he met my eyes again. His were clouded, darkened, and I relished in my knowledge of what was to come.

We both closed in the distance and I shivered with our first touch, right before our lips starting moving together. And all I could smell and taste was him, and it would never be enough.

I craved Edward, every part of him, and I wanted to shout, to run, to laugh and cry with joy.

But, of course, my ignited instincts trumped it all.

I moved both my hands to his neck, softly threading my fingers with the hair at the nape of his neck, and moaned as quietly as I felt him licking my lips. The kiss was passionate, tauntingly slow. Our tongues met and I could hear Edward groan, his free hand finding purchase in the small of my back, pressing me closer to him.

As the kiss grew into something different, breathless and urgent, Edward rolled me on my back and pulled away, only to start a path of wet kisses from my collar bone up. As he kissed and sucked on the sensitive skin, I bit down on my lip, hoping to stifle my whimpers; but, as he moved to the other side of my neck, I just gave up.

I fought to open my eyes, and, as he drew back again, I grinned in triumph. He was hovering just above me, his weight resting on his elbows, panting just like me. His soft skin was still being caressed by the sun, a few locks of his messy hair fallen to his eyes.

"Remind me why we need to wait," he whispered, and I understood the need. The moment itself was majestic, even if it was just the two of us. _Especially_ because it was just the two of us.

"We don't," I whispered back, and felt his arms stiffening on either side of me. He was summoning his control, and I would have none of it. "Edward… There are no rules for this, we make our own. And good things…" I stared into his eyes, wishing he'd see, he'd _feel _what I was feeling, "… are rare, too precious and too fleeting. All that matters is you and me."

I could feel him relaxing, his eyes flickering to mine, searching for something.

I just propped myself up fractionally, capturing his lips with mine again, humming in pleasure. There was no space for doubt in my mind, no static; I was overcome with love.

As he leaned in further, I slipped my hands under the hem of his shirt, wanting to trace his back, just like I imagined. And his eyes closed in pleasure, his neck exposed to me as an offering I was ecstatic to receive.

His self-control melted away with my caresses and he relaxed completely into me; and just the feeling of his chest pressed against mine sent chills through me.

I tugged on his shirt, and he quickly discarded it, giving me access to the wonderful expanse of his soft skin. Eager for contact, I hitched a leg over his hip, and he let out a shuddered groan; a second later I understood why.

I could feel his length, warm even through the layers of fabric, pressed against my inner thigh; the fire within me roared, and our movements grew frantic, desperate to find friction, an outlet for the tension our bodies were building. I looked down to see Edward tentatively holding my calves, lovingly raking my body with his eyes. His fingers inched up, much too slowly, until he found the hem of the nightgown on my mid-thigh.

And he didn't hesitate.

Because we both knew we were both past hesitance at this point. We were making our own rules, allowing ourselves this pure, fleeting moment of bliss together. Something we would never forget.

The pale pink fabric inched up over his hands, and he hungrily took in the sight of the exposed skin. When he reached the sides of my breasts, I squirmed and stretched my arms over my head, allowing him to fully slip it off.

I'd never felt as beautiful, and all I was wearing was a pair of simple pink boy shorts.

"There are no words," he sighed, lovingly looking into my eyes. "No words in the English language that can ever describe you. Will you ever know what you do to me?"

I just pulled him closer, all thoughts escaping me when his bare torso touched my chest. He was warm, soft and firm against me – and, even if soft, his skin had a masculine roughness to it that I enjoyed all too much.

"Edward…" I sighed, unable to say anything else. He lowered himself and lavished me with kisses until I was breathless. I couldn't wait, I couldn't think, and my body was tense as violin strings.

My hips undulated against his, a strained moan escaping me at the beautiful contact.

My hands inched down to the remaining items of clothing he was still wearing and he mimicked my movement, both of us helping the other getting fully undressed.

And nothing could compare to the feel of his skin on mine.

Slowing himself down as much as possible, Edward nuzzled my face as he positioned himself, giving me all the time in the world. All the time we both needed if either of us had any doubts.

Even if we both knew we didn't.

So I snaked both my arms around his waist and arched my back as I felt him at my entrance, his body already shaking with the effort of taking it slow. He inched in, and little by little I grew used to it; the pleasure wasn't immediate, but didn't come far behind. I'd expected pain, but felt only a manageable pressure.

And as we laid there, fully connected, Edward stopped once more, peppering me with gentle kisses, letting me grow accustomed to the feelings, and probably doing so himself; I had to keep reminding myself that it was just as new to him as it was for me.

A few seconds later, I moved against him, and he eased out, repeating the motion a little more swiftly, and with no difficulty whatsoever.

The look in his face was entrancing: the parted lips, with his breathing coming out in gushes; the slight crease in his forehead, no doubt from all the care he was taking; the hooded eyes.

My body slowly started moving with his out of instinct, completely on its own; I held on to him, needing to stay grounded, but quickly lost myself in the sensations. He was so warm… so soft. I would have expected awkward and even uncomfortable, but it was… pleasurable and primal. As if we just knew how to move, and our bodies were just remembering.

I locked my legs around his hips and he gasped, dipping his head down to my breasts, nuzzling, licking and sucking with a passion as the movements grew desperate with our joined need for relief.

My back arched of its own accord and I moaned, the strangled sound leaving me as my body shook in blinding pleasure, the overdrive of it all hitting me so hard I couldn't move.

And, with two final thrusts, I could feel Edward falling apart as well.

Always minding my comfort, he rolled to his back, dragging my limp body with his, both of us heaving, gasping for hair. He was slick with sweat, and so was I, but it felt good, just having my body draped over his.

It felt amazing.

I tugged on the covers and drew them over us, unwilling to move. In fact, I was pretty much dreading the idea of leaving that bed ever again.

But this had been more than just about physical pleasure – even if that aspect had astounded me in its sheer power.

It had been an act of love.

Just Edward and I, the first rays of sunshine as our witness.

"Did you ever expect it would be like this?" I voiced, in a low murmur.

"No, I didn't," my boyfriend answered, running his hands through the skin of my back over and over, soothing me. "But everything about you is like this morning, Bella." I turned up to look into his eyes as he spoke. "Beautiful, unexpected, and exceeding my wildest expectations."

I grinned lazily, shifting slightly to find my way back to my spot on his shoulder, maybe for a few minutes of sleep.

"We'll always remember this day," I slurred.

"The most wonderful of my life," he whispered back, kissing my hair and lulling me to sleep; I could tell he was drifting away too.

And we both knew there was so much more to explore, so much more to experience. But this was just the dawn of it all.


	28. Frustrated Expectations

**Last chapter's response was amazing, so I owe all of you a huge thank you.**

**Several reviewers asked which part of it was auto-biographical. Well, I did wake up in the middle of the night once, and went out to buy comfort food for my sick boyfriend, but that's the extent of it. I did get to stay with him all day, but his mother – also present - would have probably been offended by the love scene. Oh, well.**

**Sorry, sorry, I know, it took me a bit to update, but I'm back! And inspired ;)**

**Soundtrack: **_**Travis – Love Will Come Through / Bush – Letting the Cables Sleep**_

Things were, to say the very least, uncomfortable.

I just kept talking, even though it was meaningless chatter, not saying anything particularly important, reasonable, or bright.

Edward gave my hand a gentle squeeze, and I discreetly turned to face him, only to find an inquisitive look on his face.

I just shrugged. I had no idea of what was going on.

Lunch on Monday was proving itself to be an interesting, but rather stressful experience. I was amazed at Alice and Jasper's ability of maintaining a full conversation without speaking to one another or even look each other in the eye.

And, if there was any doubt that something had gone wrong, Alice confirmed it by glaring in the general direction of the back of Jasper's skull whenever he turned.

He just looked tired and upset.

This wasn't good.

I'd spent my Sunday catching up on some work and daydreaming of my Saturday; now I was chastising myself for not noticing Alice's mood, as it had been unusually quiet.

"I better go find Jones so can I get started, I still need to get my bearings," I managed, giving Edward a pointed look. He nodded once, slowly and almost imperceptibly, and I knew he'd understood.

We shared a brief one-armed hug and a kiss, much too quick for my liking, and I got up, picking up my things.

"Can you walk me there?"

Alice just stared at me blankly for a few seconds, as if my words had cut right into her chain of thought.

"Ehrm, Edward can do it," she answered, her words tumbling out of her mouth. I glared at her. "Fine," she huffed, getting up from the table without as much as a goodbye to the boys. As I waved, I couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between their expressions: in Edward's case, sad and pouty; Jasper just looked incredibly relieved.

We walked – or, at least, I attempted to keep up with Alice's brisk strut – all the way to the Pathology Department building, and I stopped at the stairs, reaching for my best friend's arm in a silent request for her to stop with me.

"I thought you needed to get in," she ventured, knitting her eyebrows. Again, as if I was interrupting her brooding.

Which I probably was.

"I've got another hour or so, but I wanted to talk to you," I explained, and went to sit at one of the steps. "What's going on with Jasper?"

She huffed again and crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes downcast; I knew she was about to crack then.

"Friday, when you guys didn't show up… He invited me out to this really nice place. The restaurant had these little chairs in a patio with flowers and trees all around, and it was a bit cold," she admitted, "but I liked it a lot. It was Jasper's version of romantic, or so I thought." She snorted, then, the glint of something warm disappearing from her eyes. I gave her a sympathetic smile, and Alice went on: "And then he opened his mouth and said the stupidest thing."

"What was it?"

A bitter smile drew itself on her face and she answered, sadness dripping from her words:

"He said he wanted us to stay friends, at least for the time being. Because, apparently, it's about him, not me, and he didn't want to lose my friendship because he really cared, and all those things a guy says when he's not interested."

She was downright angry now, and my question came out as a whisper:

"What did he do to make you so upset?"

"I'll tell you what he did. I tried to tell him how I felt… and he had the nerve to say he was _sorry_!" I cringed at the account, fully understanding the issue. "As if it had been this big mistake, I couldn't believe it. Mr. Patronizing schmuck," she muttered, and went on a rant about blonds and cold blue eyes. I sighed.

The thing was, I knew Jasper had feelings for her, he'd told me so himself. So there was something else to his behavior – what, I did not know.

But I couldn't very well break those news to Alice. I had to tread carefully and keep myself out of it.

"I'm sure he gave you an explanation…"

I trailed off, and she went to sit beside me, her nose slightly scrunched up. She usually did that when she felt guilty about something.

"I didn't hear it. I just walked away and took a cab back."

I scoffed. I couldn't help it.

"You can't turn your back on that, Alice!"

"I was planning on cornering him today, after lunch, had you not pulled me along, thank you very much. Oh, and, running away from the guy I have the hots for? You really want to give me crap about that one?"

I cringed yet again. Ouch. Point taken.

"We're some piece of work," I muttered, and we scowled at one another, ultimately cackling at the simple absurdity of it.

"Well, at least you and Edward turned out alright," she conceded, and I could tell getting things off her chest had lightened her spirits. "And don't think I believed that crap he gave me about being oh so sick, he's perfectly fine today. I'm actually a bit insulted that he had to use that as an excuse to sex you up."

Oh.

My eyes widened immediately, my posture freezing in horror. How could she possibly know? I had the good sense of not saying one word about Saturday morning, perfectly aware of my poor acting skills.

I turned slightly, and I could see Alice's mouth agape.

"Oh my God, I'm right! He did sex you up!"

For the third time, I cringed.

"Don't say it like that… It wasn't like that," I lamely stated, fidgeting. I took a deep breath, and I could see my best friend controlling herself not to bounce up and down with questions. "It was completely spur of the moment, but it wasn't rushed, and not too slow. It was… It felt right, and it was just beautiful."

She gave me her signature wide grin, pulling me in for a hug, and I silently chastised myself for not reigning it in as I should have, given her emotional frailty.

"I'm so happy for you, Bella. Just call me Auntie Alice, I guess," she cackled, humor always her coping skill of choice, and I squeezed back her tiny frame. "Oh, by the way, you did use protection, right?" she asked, pulling away. "I'm not ready to be an Auntie just yet."

My eyes narrowed to slits as I answered:

"No, we didn't, but you know I'm on the pill," as did Edward, since he'd seen me take it, "so don't worry. No nephews or nieces," I assured her.

"Good," she nodded, and a glance towards the clock confirmed it was time to get to my new job.

And, four hours later, I was bored with it already.

It wasn't a bad job, by any means; and I had Jones' office all to myself, as she was rarely there. The process itself was perfectly simple: I'd be handed a list and a deadline for each task. As long as I delivered on time, it didn't really matter if I showed up every day or not, which was nice.

And, at least, there were no tendencies of turning me into some sort of PA, taking care of things that weren't my responsibility.

Tired, I slipped out of the office after seven, and groaned.

I wanted to be the supportive friend, not the kind of idiot who stops caring as soon as she starts dating.

But I missed my bubble with Edward, badly.

Fortunately, my phone held the answer:

"_I'll probably be late. Jas better be ready, he's got some explaining to do. A"_

I smiled, inwardly cheering her on, as I made my way to the familiar corridor, the maroon walls and oak door now the most welcoming features in my world.

And Edward looked as exhausted as me, stepping aside and sighing. I greeted him as warmly as I could, and he went ahead of me to shut the laptop and collect the books lining his bedspread.

I could tell he'd had a full afternoon.

"Did Gaspard give you a hard time?" I asked, and he turned immediately.

"No, it was fine. How was your day? Had a chance to speak with Alice?"

"Yeah, I did. Jasper filled you in?" I guessed, really hoping that was the case.

No sooner they got to know each other, Edward would stop seeing him a threat and recognize the good nature of our lanky friend.

"Not in great detail, but I got the basics" he supplied, getting my coat while I plopped down on his bed unceremoniously. "Do you think he did the right thing?"

He crossed his arms over his chest, towering above me, while I thought out the answer.

"There's no way I can tell. Because I know for a fact he wasn't being truthful, and Alice got hurt," I muttered, trying to make sense of it, but with little success. My vision was blurry and my temples were heavy with fatigue.

Edward moved to sit by me, staring off into space.

"Maybe honesty wasn't the best answer."

His words made no sense to me.

"What are you talking about? It's always the best answer," I countered, trying to read him.

His mouth opened and his cloudy green eyes met mine, something in them I couldn't identify. Something I wasn't used to see.

His mouth closed and opened up again, the glimpse of emotion gone.

"How was it with Jones?"

I got a feeling those weren't the words he'd planned on, but put it aside. We were both really tired, and his cryptic ways were probably Jasper's doing.

They'd probably done some sort of guy bonding over shared information. If that was the case, I'd give him the privacy to deal with that, gladly. It was progress.

And, even though we were tired, we managed to talk for hours before sleep took us, still clothed, lying on his bed.

That made for a late morning on Tuesday, and, that time, not even my charm was enough to get me out of the teacher's bad side.

The week unfolded, quick moments of bantering with my friends and being with Edward breaking the pattern of hours and hours of work.

I was beginning to respect my boyfriend that much more, seeing what he did for Gaspard and experiencing the stresses that came with the added responsibility myself.

Things between Jas and Alice were still shaky, and I could tell she was taking it hard, but still managed to smile. It hurt to see, especially since it was so clearly eating away at him too – but I stuck to my resolve of butting out of their business.

By midnight on Friday, I was, in a word, frustrated.

I was frustrated because my job doing research was taking up so much of my time.

I was frustrated at Jasper, for being an idiot and not rising above whichever insecurities he held.

And, first and foremost, I was, for the first time in my life, sexually frustrated.

Saturday would always be stored away to remember. It had been… special. Something you only get to live once, but that somehow managed to set the expectations pretty high.

But, to me, the where, the when, were all secondary. It really didn't matter if we tried it on the back of a car – though that didn't sound very comfortable – or in a bed of roses under the stars.

I just wanted to experience it again, to feel it again, and Edward was the only thing that truly mattered, the only constant in all the fantasies my bored mind came up with.

You'd think I was a master in control, having twenty-two years of abstinence backing me up. Unfortunately, now I knew what I was missing, and it was excruciating to endure Edward's touches and passionate kisses that never went further.

That's why I ended up in front of his door, knocking, Friday at midnight.

And the answering smirk and hungry eyes let me know he felt about as frustrated as me.


	29. Conquering Through Dominance

**This chapter picks up exactly when the last one left off, and I'm sure the majority of you won't be disappointed by that fact.**

**I'm sorry that this is such a short one, but, anyway I put it, there was no other way of cutting it, or it wouldn't make any sense. I'll make sure to update quickly and compensate for it!**

**Soundtrack: **_**Muse – Hysteria**_** (and yes, I know I've used it before, but I love it and it really helped with this chapter's tone); **_**Coldplay - Sparks**_

I smirked, stepping inside as if it was my own room, which, in some ways, I'd come to think of as. Something mine and Edward's, a physical home to our bubble.

A thought I kept to myself; coming off as too territorial this early in our relationship would probably come off as mildly insane.

I willed those insecurities aside and slowly unbuttoned my heavy jacket, noticing how Edward's eyes were trained on the movement of my hands, even though he was asking about my work.

I didn't answer immediately, but he didn't seem to notice. Amused, and even a little big smug, I made my way around the bed, tugging on Edward's arm and silently directing him to sit on his desk chair. Only then did I answer.

But the dismay in his stance and expression let me know he probably wasn't listening to my account of how I'd gotten a head start so I could take Saturday off, probably even the weekend.

I knew he'd only registered the fact that I remained two steps away, much too far, talking.

We'd done enough of that.

I walked back to the door and flipped the switch on the wall beside it, leaving the desk lamp as the only source of dim, golden light.

I flipped the switch on all of the static around us, and decided to let my body make the decisions, which was probably the best decision I'd done all week.

Purposefully, but slowly nonetheless, I walked back to the desk chair and sat, straddling Edward, fast enough to startle him, but slow enough to register it.

His eyes went wide and he let out a gush of air; our torsos were probably one inch apart, so I felt his every shift. It was crushing me not to give in and close the distance, but I wanted him to break first – I wanted to see him submit to it.

And submit he did.

In one fluid movement, one of his hands was at the nape of my neck and the other on the small of my back, bringing us together in a heated kiss.

There wasn't even a pretend of sweetness in it, apart from the taste of his mouth. We nipped and sucked on each other's lips, moaning as our tongues touched. It was heaven, but torture nonetheless; with both my hands running through the locks of his hair, I sought his body warmth, cursing the fabric that parted us.

We both gasped as I felt him, even through the cotton of my jeans, and his hands flew to my clad thighs during the one second of stillness that followed.

I wanted him, just as I'd wanted him since the very first time we'd met, that faithful day in Anatomy class. I wanted him differently, because of all that happened in between.

I wanted him more.

Clawing its way out of my skin, I was completely possessed by that longing, that want, that absolute need, and begged it to consume me in its euphoria.

Undulating my hips, slowly but forcefully, maximizing the friction between us, I got a muffled groan out of Edward.

It was but fuel to the flames.

Our lips parted and we stared at each other through half lidded eyes, opening the gates to a startling and exciting discovery.

I was being dominant, and enjoying it.

But, more importantly, Edward seemed to be enjoying being submissive to my will, all too much.

Lifting me up with no signs of strain – since I didn't attribute his ragged breath to physical effort – he managed to close the distance to the king-size bed, pinning me under and ceasing my mouth again. Slow kisses – torturing, as if he was just asking for me to snap.

We got rid of our clothes swiftly, and I sighed in contentment for being able to see the whole of Edward and feel his skin against my own.

There was no better feeling in the world, but it still wasn't enough.

His lips left mine, tracing the curve of my jaw and nipping and sucking on my neck, hard enough to leave a mark, which made me gasp in pure arousal. Branding me as his own.

As his hands ghosted caresses up and down my sides, covering my skin with goose bumps, his mouth dipped to the valley between my breasts and he teased, recklessly, just begging for me to stop him.

Biting down on my lip, we locked eyes and his – dark green, fixed and beautiful – lacked only the vertical pupils in their resemblance to those of a feline.

He lowered his mouth back to one of my breasts, palming the other, and my breath caught as I fought off the urge to moan loud enough to wake every single one of his dorm mates. He repeated his motions over and over again, undisturbed as I squirmed, blowing his warm breath on my over-sensitive skin, pushing me further to the brink of insanity.

I reached my breaking point, and the fire within me roared as I pushed, first on his shoulders and then on his chest, getting him to lie on his back.

It was my turn.

Crawling over from the foot of the bed, I heard him growl lowly in his chest, and smirked as he took in the sight of my bare body.

We were, after all, past the awkwardness that came with nudity, and I rejoiced in the beautiful view beside me: the pale skin against the dark sheets, the defined muscles of his arms and shoulders, the broad chest that preceded the long abdomen, its swells and indents, culminating in a deep V.

I licked my lips in anticipation and shivered.

I supported myself on my knees and elbows, keeping myself close enough to allow my chest to barely graze his. Our breaths mingled but I didn't give in, knowing that would make me lose control that much faster.

Instead, I dipped my mouth over to his neck and heard him hiss, his hands raking my body and pulling me closer; giving up, giving in.

I drew back, positioning myself and taking a shuddered breath as I lowered myself onto him, shamelessly enjoying my control.

Edwards hands tightened on my hips and I felt his body quiver, his back arching off the bed as he gasped, eyes shut.

It was different. The want, the need we'd managed to push back the first time, were consuming us, and the sensations coursing through my body were very much the same, only heightened.

Our bodies started to move together, his hands guiding me and helping me set a wonderful pace, moans filling the air between us, and my temperature rose impossibly higher.

This was as much about lust and desire as last time had been about love.

We mumbled and whispered back and forth, incoherent words, sounds of pleasure. The feel of his body and my own, the friction and heat, even his smell was maddening, as we adored each other in any way we knew how.

As it was becoming all too much, one of Edward's hand left my skin and he propped himself up on it, encircling my waist with his other arm, bringing our torsos flush to one another.

The shift was my undoing, and I clawed at his back, trying to keep myself grounded as my body pulsed out of my control, dragging him with me.

The aftershocks took hold of me and I sat still, still straddling my boyfriend, in awe of the experience, in awe of Edward.

My muscles locked and it took help to allow us to rearrange ourselves; I didn't want to break that basic connection just yet, but knew our current position would make it impossible for us to sleep.

"You are the sexiest creature to ever been born," I heard him whisper, and sought haven in his arms, nuzzling the skin of his neck and kissing him, a big, goofy grin plastered on our faces as his arms encircled me.

"You singlehandedly brought that up in me, so there's something to be said about you as well," I countered, and heard him chuckle as a response.

"I am so lucky to have ever found you," he mumbled back, losing the battle against sleep, lazily drawing soothing circles on my back.

"Then don't let me go."

I hadn't realized I'd been keeping that bottled up, but it felt as if someone lifted a boulder off my chest, so I guessed I had indeed.

"Never."

The whisper lingered in the heavy air and our breathing evened, my relaxed body fighting for rest as I tried to keep my eyes open and savor the moment.

We were to each other what no one had ever been or would ever be. Something dauntingly beautiful was at its start, and Edward's promise struck deep within me.

That night, we conquered forever.


	30. Serious Conversations

**Hey, readers! Small, but important note: Bella's relationship with her mother isn't cannon in Static, just in case this chapter raises any questions.**

**Even if this fic is still a few chapters away from its end, I'm already mourning it. Sniff.**

**Seven hundred – **_**seven hundred**_** – reviews and thirty chapters later, here we are. I can only say I love you all for joining the ride.**

**Soundtrack: **_**Mae – The House That Fire Built/ Coldplay – X&Y**_

Eyes still closed, I enjoyed being encompassed in Edward strong arms, my back to his chest as we spooned. His fingers were dancing on my hipbone, having inched up my silk gown to meet the skin and stirring within me the same desire that had possessed us to christen his shower, earlier that morning.

"I wish we could be like this every day," he murmured, nuzzling my temple. "Not just these fleeting hours during the weekend."

"Real life is just behind that door, waiting to catch up with us," I sighed, letting my guard down as he let aloud the words that plagued my mind.

"Maybe we should think about changing that," he retorted, and I turned my neck in an uncomfortable angle so I could see his face and check if he was serious. "Have you given any thought about us going home at night to _our_ place? Well, not literally, but we could find a small apartment to rent near the campus. If not right now… maybe during the summer."

I blinked in succession, fighting away tears, chocked up with what he was proposing.

I stared into his green eyes and saw nothing but absolute adoration. It was unbelievable to even hear him say it, and all it entailed. He was telling me, with no degree of hesitation, that he was in this for the long run, just as I was.

That he actually wanted to live with me.

"Yes, let's do that," I whispered. "Not now, like you said, but… soon."

A beautiful smile overtook his features and his eyes shone, only for me, only at the prospect of being with me. And it made me immensely happy.

"Can I ask why not now?"

"You want the short version, or the elaborate one?" I asked, accessing if I'd hurt his ego.

"Short," he answered, his light mood unchanging.

"For the sake of taking things slow and because Alice needs me."

"Sounds very reasonable," he granted, kissing my neck.

I rolled on my side, so I could face my boyfriend, and shared soft kisses, again and again, until a burst of chuckles erupted from his chest.

"In the meanwhile," he stated, his sweet breath fanning over my face, "I had a key made for you. So you can come in at any time."

"You mean, come and leave at any time," I corrected, smiling.

"The leaving part of the deal remains to be seen," he retorted, cocking an eyebrow and making me chuckle.

But, before I could properly answer him, we heard a knock in the door.

"Duuuuuuude, open up!"

Emmett's distinguishable booming voice came floating into the room, and I jumped up, startled.

"Oh, crap," Edward muttered, getting up with a frown. "I'd forgotten about having invited these two. I'm sorry, Bella, I thought you'd be out with Alice for the afternoon," he grimaced, and I launched myself at the task of getting dressed as fast as humanly possible. "So I scheduled with him and Jasper so they'd help me set up the TV my parents bought as an early Christmas present."

I took a look and, sure enough, there was a large, but rather slim package near the desk. I would bet money it contained a huge flat screen.

Sometimes, it was easy to remember _my_ Edward had rich parents. It was simply something that didn't affect us.

"That's okay," I whispered, kissing him while zipping my jeans. He was already at work straightening the bed, but there was only so much that could be done. "I did tell her I'd join this week, so I should probably be going anyway, I just lost track of time."

Taking notice that everything was on the right way, and putting my hair up in a messy bun, I heard Emmett's insistent knocking, pointed by Jasper's pleas for him to «take is easy on the door».

Giving my boyfriend one last kiss and smile, I slipped into my shoes and picked up the brand new key, slowly so he'd see it. I was silently accepting this development, and he knew it.

I hesitated before opening the door because I knew what this looked like. Actually, it looked exactly like what it was.

Me, spending the night – and half a day – in my boyfriend's dorm room. I couldn't defend myself against their assumptions, which would probably be correct anyways, so there was only one thing I could do to make this easier on Edward.

I could walk out of here looking like I'd enjoyed myself – again, nothing but the truth – and let my sex-God boyfriend take the credit.

"Gentlemen," I smirked, opening the door.

Jasper just smiled back, whereas Emmett squeezed the breath out of me with a hug every bit as strong as he looked.

"Bella! How you doin'? Nice to see you!"

I just chuckled, as soon as I got some air in my lungs, and we exchanged pleasantries on the doorstep. I was glad to see the big man's joyful side again, and knowing I'd at least had a small part in it made me smile even wider.

It was, therefore, in a wonderful mood, that I joined Alice for a trip through the rows of little shops she'd found online and by word of mouth, buying some new clothes and chatting aimlessly.

Not everything in life had to have an aim, after all. Some things were simply beautiful in themselves.

Rosalie joined us sometime later – an arrangement Alice had previously worked out, probably to ensure company if I bailed out. The thought was only mildly insulting.

"I should get started on my gifts, this year!" Al squeaked, and my eyebrows shot up. Christmas seemed to be on everyone's mind, but I was extremely calm about it.

Alice and I had our own tradition.

Truth was, we always celebrated Thanks Giving and Christmas with one another. I didn't really feel like going to Phoenix and handle Renee and Phil, and Charlie was fine on his own; we were never to show a lot of emotion, anyways. And Alice was as happy as far away from her parents possible, even if they forced her to show up for the New Year's Party they threw for every known relative, every single year.

If Christmas was to be spent with one's family, then we were doing the right thing by being consistent. It made no sense to us to spend 355 days out of the year together, dealing with each other's issues day by day, and then bail out and meet our "real families" for less than a week.

We were each other's real family. Now, we'd probably make a few additions – namely, Edward and Jasper.

As I discussed this with my best friend, Rosalie suddenly spoke up through a beaded curtain on sale:

"Why don't you guys join us for Christmas? It's just me and Emmett every year; we'd love to have you."

Such a suggestion, especially coming from Rosalie, and warm and inviting as it was, struck me as impossible to refuse.

"I could cook," I blurted out, positively radiant at the thought.

Alice, of course, started bouncing up and down, praising my famous dishes to the, apparently, cooking-challenged blonde.

After three hours of shopping, planning and adjustment, we sorted things out: Rosalie would host, Alice would buy the supplies and I would do the cooking.

The guys could do the dishes.

Influenced by the holiday spirit and the good girl talk, I managed to buy gifts for everyone, including a beautiful pair of earrings for my best friend and a red scarf that would look lovely on Rosalie.

They even thanked me in advance.

As for Alice's purchases, though I didn't pay much attention to most, it struck me as a game plan was being executed. Some of the outfits made my eyes bulge out of their sockets, and Rose's head to bob with approval.

She might have agreed to give Jasper time, but she sure as hell wasn't going to make it easy for him to keep his hands off of her.

The hungry eyes he kept giving her the next week proved me right.

Things flowed easily, almost too quickly for me to really enjoy. We didn't go back to a routine per se, since, with I and Edward both having jobs, things were hectic, crazy, and unpredictable. I never knew where my day would lead me, or even where I'd be sleeping on a given night, but I could live with that; and I gave that new key as much use as possible.

I was crazy in love with a man who loved me back. I'd never been this happy.

Christmas approached us at a steady pace, and finals seemed just around the corner, like a bad dream you can't shake.

On a particularly cold day, I managed to get out of the Department early and settled down on Edward's bedroom floor with a steaming cup of cappuccino and my Microbiology assignment.

Halfway through it, I decided _Echinococcus_ weren't very interesting little creatures.

Shutting my laptop as quietly as possible, I got comfortable observing my boyfriend.

Soon enough, I found out that something was wrong.

He wasn't taking notes as he usually did when studying, nor his hand supported his chin.

There was a crease between his eyebrows and his eyes were fixed, sightless.

Sometime later, I decided to break him out of his trance:

"Edward?"

His head shot up and he took me in, slightly startled.

"Sorry, I didn't notice you were done…"

"I'm not," I admitted. "I just stopped and then got lost looking at you."

"Why?" he retorted.

"You've been staring at that same page for twenty minutes, and you haven't read one word of it." I patiently waited until he sighed, his frown accentuating, and the book was shut with far more force than necessary. I decided to press him a little. "I know this wasn't what you wanted to do, and that has to be frustrating, so if you need any help…"

"I don't," he cut, not meeting my eyes. "You're right, this isn't what I wanted, and I get reminded of that every single day, but that's not why I spaced out." He paused before continuing. "This is my issue."

He gently tapped the big book and I took a look at it – recognizing it as our Genetics recommended textbook.

"I don't understand, you had an A on the mid-term."

"No, not with the material… But what's in it." His eyes met mine and I saw a rare form of sadness in them. "Every time I read about traits and the way they pass on to one's offspring… even diseases, I always feel like I'm learning a bit about myself. For years, I wondered if I was anything like my birth mother or father, or where this strange shade of hair came from."

For a moment, I didn't know what to say. I never knew these things bothered him.

"Have you no information at all about them?" I ventured.

"Not really. I had the typical angry rebellious teenager faze, and that's when I asked Carlisle to do some digging and find out what he could. I didn't put it this nicely, obviously, and I'm still ashamed of some of the things I said. Telling Esme I wanted to know my _real _mother… I know it broke her heart, even if she showed me nothing but understanding. My Mom didn't deserve that," he confessed, shaking his head. "The only thing my Dad found out was my birth mother's name. Elizabeth Masen."

He was so obviously heartbroken about it, and the worse was, I couldn't help.

"Does it still bother you?"

That seemed to take him by surprise.

"Not as much as it used to. I tried to make my peace with her decision to give me up – whatever the reason – because I have the best parents in the world, my childhood was happy, and they're there for me. But still, I don't know anything, and that's what scares me the most. The man I am today is a result of my surroundings, education… but genetic inheritance too."

I understood what he was saying, and scooted closer to him.

"You're a wonderful man," I breathed, laying my head on his shoulder. "And no matter what gene pool you came from, you're still Carlisle and Esme Cullen's child. It's their values that you base your decisions on. It was their kindness and love that nourished you. _That's_ what you're made of. You are more a son of theirs than of some couple you've never met," I stated, quite passionately, because I couldn't help it.

I couldn't bear the thought of him ever doubting himself over the mistake of others.

"I would never give up on a child of mine, no matter what. That's at least one thing I don't have in common with them."

His words rang, strong and laced with emotion, through the damp air.

"I know you wouldn't. You'll be a wonderful father, someday."

It was a beautiful image; Edward holding a little miniature of himself, beaming with pride and joy at the bundle of life in his arms, so willing to give him the love his birth parents never did.

It made my throat close up.

He brought his arms around my waist and held me close, planting kisses on my hair.

That night, I stayed. And, for the first time in months, I had another dream about Peter.

Only, this time, the little boy stayed nestled in my embrace, sound asleep, and we were blissfully undisturbed. There were no angry mothers, no anguish in my heart.

I could feel a soothing, loving presence beside me, and knew instinctively who it was.

As I was remembering it, the morning after, and brushing my teeth in front of the mirror, another crucial change came to me.

The baby boy had beautiful reddish hair.


	31. The Perfect Christmas

**Hey everyone! Sorry for going M.I.A. on you guys, but my boyfriend planned out this wonderful surprise vacation, and I haven't had access to a computer in over a week.**

**So, to compensate for your patience, and because this is a short one, I'll post the next one Saturday, at the very latest.**

**Also, I've pulled together a **_**YouTube playlist**_** with the entire soundtrack for Static (link on profile). I'll update it as we go along.**

_**Soundtrack: **_

_**-In Rosalie's CD: Bodyrockers – I Like The Way You Move / The Donnas – Take It Off / Jet – Are You Gonna Be My Girl**_

_**- Jasper Singing: Coldplay – We Never Change**_

_**- Christmas Morning: Coldplay - Yellow**_

I concentrated hard on my task, as I knew it required surgical precision.

There's a big difference between a perfectly made Tiramisu and a soggy, cold, indistinctive mass that tastes something like coffee and stale ladyfingers. Still, when making it, the slightest error can result in the second.

I wasn't about to ruin my Christmas Eve dinner with a poorly made desert.

Alice had gone all out, dressing the house in white and red, which toned down the ever-present black just enough to be cheery, but not over the top. Rosalie was in heaven with all the attention and the boys were back in the game room, playing foosball or pool. Emmett's booming voice sometimes overpowered the music Edward had taken such care in choosing, and that floated from the living room into the kitchen, calming me as I went about my tasks.

Having inquired my friends about their particular tastes, I found Italian cooking to be the definite winner in their preferences, and decided to just go with that. Before the Tiramisu, I was serving a Porcini mushroom Risotto and a creamy Farfalle Carbonara.

The girls had kept me company in the kitchen, but neither of them had gotten anywhere near the stove – in Rosalie's case, because she really didn't want to, and in Alice's case, because I wouldn't let her.

"Oh come on, how bad can I mess up? Maybe I can just dice vegetables or something," she whined, eyeing me with interest as I handled the food.

"Right, after the Alice-almost-lost-a-finger incident in '06, I'm really going to let that happen," I countered, and her pout grew to a slightly menacing glare. I wiped my hands on my apron and went to check on the vegetable soup I was making, cool as cucumber.

The Alice glare didn't work on me, and the little pixie knew it.

"Fine, you do all the work. But I'm getting bored of just sitting around," she insisted, pouring herself another glass of wine. I shot her a dirty look and she scowled, putting the bottle down immediately.

"Oh, I have an idea for a distraction," Rosalie stated, a sly smirk on her face.

She walked over to the stereo, and I tried frantically to keep her from changing the CD, knowing exactly just how particular my boyfriend was when it came to music.

"Relax, this will flush the guys out," Alice cackled, eyeing the CD cover.

I took a peak at the title and that alone made me blush.

As the first song filled the air, we could hear them rushing to the living room, Edward in front, wearing a scowl that showed just how little he enjoyed being demoted from his position as resident DJ.

Rosie and Al managed to pull Jas and Emmett to dance with them, and I beckoned my gorgeous redhead to join me in the kitchen.

"What are you making?" he asked, coming in, his eyes warming as he took my attire – nice dress under an apron. How sexy.

I explained my several creations, as we looked over the several pots. He wasn't making it easy to concentrate, though, nuzzling my neck and planting small kisses by my left ear. I'd have to get him later for it.

"I had no idea you were this talented," he stated, with a glint in his eyes.

"Don't compliment the chef until you've tried it," I chuckled, as Emmett's voice rang through the house and the music was cut off.

"No distracting Bella, Eddie! That's a golden rule; don't mess with the wonderful woman preparing our meal!"

Ignoring the blatant brownnosing, the girls came in to help me fix the platters and I put the Tiramisu in the freezer – something I really wouldn't have done, had we more time.

Dinner was a wonderful affair; we ate among amusing chatter, and I received compliments all around. Edward was practically glowing with pride.

"I don't care what you've done," Jasper stated, playfully, as he scooped himself his third serving of risotto, "She's way out of your league."

And then, as I blushed and turned to see my boyfriend's answer, I saw it again.

That look in his eyes. That distinctive, heavy look, which I couldn't quite place and that still unnerved me, as he spoke:

"I really don't deserve her."

I cocked my head to the side, smirking and swatting his hand, as he was sitting right next to me. I didn't like to hear him say these things, but self-doubt was an intrinsic part of his personality.

Sometimes, for no apparent reason, I'd see that expression as he stared back at me, but never got him to say if something was bothering him. I finally gave up trying to reach its source. After all, we were a happy couple and things were going well; everyone is entitled to have a bad day, or a bad moment.

Full and content, we sunk on the couches and on the carpet, sipping wine and digesting the meal. Jasper picked up his guitar, and Edward finally cheered up again, watching our friend play.

As he drawled out the words of the song, Alice sat back, and drank it in, fascinated. If the look in both their eyes was any clue, I'd give it a week.

After a few hours in the game room and a second round of desert – forth, for Emmett – we finally turned in for some sleep – with me and Edward taking up the smaller, one bed guest room. I wasn't complaining.

Exhausted and happy, we fell asleep in each other's arms.

Morning arrived much too soon, and I groaned, snuggling closer to Edward, as his cell phone alarm rang.

"No use, Bella, Alice will be up and about in a matter of minutes," he chuckled, and I sighed in defeat. "Also," he added, in a more serious tone," I wanted to give you your present before we go down to meet them for breakfast."

"You shouldn't have bought me anything," I slurred, remembering the beautifully wrapped box filled with music sheets of piano compositions I'd found for him in an antiques store.

He stretched his arm away from me, searching for something in the nightstand, and I was handed an envelope a couple of seconds later.

Anxious and curious, aside from fully awake, I set up and carefully opened it, finding nothing but a picture of a beautiful lake.

That confused me.

Noting my silence, Edward held me closer and, as his other hand caressing the curly locks Alice had taken such care in styling, whispered in my ear.

"That's the view we'll have, from the little cabin I found for us to spend New Year's Eve, by the side of the Goose Pond. I know we have work to do, but this is just a forty minute ride by car, and we can spend the extended weekend there. Just the two of us."

"Oh, Edward," I breathed, incapable of saying anything else.

Actually, not quite incapable.

I wanted to say it. I was ready to say it.

I knew it was true – nothing had ever been truer.

But he had gone out of his way to make our New Year's Eve special – and gave me the best gift ever. So, I'd vowed to find a way to make it special too, somehow. I could wait for just the perfect moment.

So I settled for a long kiss, whispering back about how much I liked it, trying to convey it without actually cheating my recent resolve.

He just smirked, stealing a few kisses while I got lost in the beautiful, clear depths of his green eyes.

Someday, I'd gather the courage to tell him that every morning I awoke, facing his beautiful face, was nothing short of a Christmas morning.


	32. Eyes Wide Open

**Okay, so here's the chapter I've been dreading to post, but, as promised, I'm posting it on schedule. I've never been so afraid of the reactions I'll get up until now…**

**[Please don't kill me.]**

_**Soundtrack: Muse – Ruled by Secrecy/Deftones - Change**_

I couldn't wipe the smile off my face if I tried.

My bags were packed, and I was going to spend a beautiful weekend with Edward by the lake. Just us, being a regular couple. And no books in sight.

I wasn't even bringing anything to read.

The butterflies flew around in my stomach as I did a mental check-list, trying to figure out if anything was missing. Packing had always been Alice's specialty; with her gone to be with her family for New Year's, I had no choice but to try to do it myself – a process that happened to entail a couple of phone calls to Forks, just to be safe.

As I left the Department, I bid goodbye to Mrs. Jones, who shot me a wink and a «get ready quickly».

Could anyone really blame me for sharing the happiness?

Rushing my way through the halls, I checked the message board for any changes for the following week.

That's when I noticed a small yellow flyer, oddly familiar.

My eyebrows knitting in confusion, I took a better look and found that there was nothing odd about it.

Of course I recognized it. I'd been the one who made it.

It announced Dr. Sparrow's lecture on Orthopedics, to be held right at the beginning of the semester – a date I'd set myself.

Ripping it off the board, I clutched it in my hand, my mind blank.

And then I got to the signature.

_Coordinated by the Assistant to the teacher,_

After standing there for five seconds, maybe more, shocked out of my mind, my feet started moving.

My eyes never leaving the obnoxious yellow paper, my steps evolved to a full blown run, and I blindly managed out of the corridors, my heavy bag hurting me as it swung against my ribs with each stride.

_Coordinated by the Assistant to the teacher,_

I kept looking at it, trying to understand, but I couldn't. It didn't make sense. I had dumped that blue folder in the trash. I remembered it as clearly as the palm of my hand.

And yet, the words were there, cold and mocking.

_Coordinated by the Assistant to the teacher,_

I wished them away. I wished I could close my eyes and make them disappear. I wish I could turn back time five minutes and have never even seen it.

_Coordinated by the Assistant to the teacher,_

My feet had driven me to the door, the tall, dark oak door, and my fist connected roughly with the wood, forcefully, as I didn't remember I had the key. My hands were cold and it hurt, but I didn't even flinch. I was numb to any physical pain, at least.

The door opened to reveal that familiar room, its inner light warm and inviting as ever, and I stepped in.

"I wasn't expecting you this early, I'm still packing," he said, a bright smile on his face, stepping aside to let me in.

I stepped inside, my mind reeling, trying to find the words, but they wouldn't come out. I'd managed to tear my eyes from the dreadful yellow paper, but the words were burned on my retinas like scars.

_Coordinated by the Assistant to the teacher,_

"Do you need help with your bag?" he insisted, confused by my expression, or lack thereof. I was suddenly aware of some sort of vibration, and realized I was shaking. With what, I couldn't tell. I couldn't discern anything else.

So I stuck the paper in his face, noticing how crumpled it was. I was sure my hands had done it, but I was too disconnected from my own body to know.

His eyes widened in recognition, the flash of emotion I couldn't quite understand now painfully clear.

_Guilt._

All that time, it'd been staring me in the face, and I just couldn't see.

Somehow, I summoned my voice, and my words rang through the room while my body shook:

"Coordinated by the Assistant to the teacher, _Edward Cullen_."

That was, after all, the signature at the bottom. His signature.

I wished so hard he'd deny it. I wished he'd say it wasn't his, or that it had been a glorious coincidence that the flyer I'd made for the lecture I'd organized matched his _down to the letter size_. That we had just did exactly the same work, completely unaware of each other's, and phrasing it the exact same way.

I begged the sky that was it. I begged any deity of every religion to grant my wish.

One soul prayer in my mind.

_Please. Let this not be what I think it is._

Oblivious to my inner turmoil, Edward put his hands up, in a gesture of defense.

"Bella, please, you have to understand…"

Tears started falling, and I saw red, recoiling instinctively. He wasn't even going to deny it. He couldn't, of course, I knew that.

My fantasies were pointless.

One loud gasp of agony erupted from my chest, and I turned away from him, finding it impossible to look him in the eyes. Finding it impossible to ever associate such betrayal with the man I loved. The only one I'd ever loved.

I could hear his voice, but I didn't know what he was saying. He had the good sense not to touch me and, for that, I was grateful.

Words flew out of his mouth, sounds that bounced off the walls around us, and I could feel movement behind me.

It was all lost in me, though.

"Did you… did you pick up the folder from the trash, or was it Gaspard?" I asked.

There was still that one last possibility. Maybe, just maybe, Gaspard had picked up the folder, assumed it was Edward's, and somehow went forward with it without his assistant even knowing.

After all, it was possible. My work couldn't be traced back to me if found, since I hadn't signed it. I was expecting to present it myself, so why bother?

That was the only thing I needed to know. That was the only thing that could still possibly redeem him.

I turned to see his face. I wanted to know I was getting the truth when he said it.

His green eyes were bloodshot and I could tell he'd been rubbing them; his face was awfully pale. His hands were fisted and the look – a feverish, determined yet broken look – set him apart from the man I thought I knew.

"It was me," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper in the silent room.

I felt sick. My breathing was incontrollable, and my chest felt tight to the point where I was surprised it simply didn't crack open.

All this time, he'd been lying to me. All this time, he'd been betraying the only two things I had ever truly asked of him, while giving myself in return. Trust and honesty.

Everything, every single thing had come after this betrayal. The day he took me to the greenhouse, our first kiss, the first day I slept in his arms, our entire relationship… A lie.

A lie!

And then, I was sure that he had never loved me. He had never truly felt the way I did for him, or he'd been unable to go through with it, to use me in such a way.

I found my voice again, because walking away wouldn't be enough. Slowly, I managed to get the words out, each one marked with its own note of pain:

"I would yell, and show you just how much your hurt me, just how you broke me. I'd set you straight and ask how you could betray the one thing I ever asked of you. But I don't honestly believe that you'd care."

I was almost positive that saying it ended up hurting me worse than him.

He stood there, paralyzed in shock, and I dropped the crumpled flyer to the floor, still more whole than I was. Rushing out of the dorm, I melted away in the fog, crying desperately.

I just couldn't… think. How could I even make sense of anything anymore?

I'd given up a job for him, yes, but God, it wasn't about that. I would have probably even stepped down if he'd told him it meant this much to him...

Why? Just why would he do this? Use me and then stay with me, unashamed, lying to me every step of the way? Working in front of me, asking for my opinion…

Did he really care that little? Or caring for me wasn't planned?

My stomach flipped, and I knew I was only trying to fool myself. Trying to salvage anything I could, find some good in it.

How could I not? I had been happy. Up until finding that wretched flyer, I was finally happy. And it was him who gave me that.

It was him who created the illusion that I came to love as my reality; that I wasn't strong enough to resist getting sucked into.

I stopped running, unaware I was even doing it, and dropped down, my hands on my knees. My lungs were burning with the cold air and there was something stuck in my throat, something suffocating and awful.

Tears.

Letting go felt worse, because it made me stop thinking and start feeling. The true impact of what had just happened, the repercussions it had not only in my future, but the way I viewed my past.

Every memory he was a part of… tainted. I'd _never_ get to feel the same way I felt in his arms again.

And the loss was just as bad as the betrayal.

I didn't walk, because there was nowhere to go. There was nothing to see, no place I needed or wanted to be.

Chilled to the bone, I eventually sought some sort of direction, some sign of where I was – only to find myself near the faculty parking lot. I blessed the cold fog for shielding me from the sight of others and walked back to the dorm, quiet sobs erupting through my chest from time to time.

I kept trying to wipe my face, but apparently I was still crying. I couldn't tell.

The room was dark when I arrived, and I didn't turn on any lights.

I couldn't… think. I just couldn't. There was just so much to deal with – so much I couldn't deal with – and so much to feel. I didn't want to, but I couldn't help it; the floodgates were open and it was crashing over me, violent and relentless. It felt like drowning, only not as peaceful. Maybe that would come later; for now, all I could do was struggle against it.

When I noticed my back was stiff, I checked my surroundings – and found myself sitting on the floor against the wall, by the door. I looked in front of me, without thinking, and saw the bag I'd taken such care in packing, just leaning against the bed.

That brought another wave of it, and I didn't even want to analyze it. I just wanted it to stop.

I just wanted things back to where they were.

"Bella?"

I heard his voice before I saw him, standing by the door.

Jasper seemed both shocked and alarmed, seeing me there, and for a moment I didn't understand why he'd be there in the first place.

Then I remembered he was supposed to help me take my things to the car, and we'd have a last dinner before the extended weekend.

It must have been hours since I got off work. Since… it all ended.

I just let my head rest on my knees and kept crying.

It wasn't violent or maniacal or raw.

Just streaks of tears welling down as I silently struggled against it all.

"Bella… What the hell happened, where's Edward?" Jasper asked, and I flinched visibly at the name.

My mouth felt like it was full of cotton balls, so I just shook my head and hoped he'd understand.

"Did he… did he hurt you? I'll kill him if he touched you."

I looked up again, and, for the first time in my life, I saw Jasper truly angry. His face was disfigured and feral, reddened, his whole body screaming danger in its stance.

I shook my head again, because I couldn't say it. I couldn't… explain. So I reached out with my hand for him to take it, just trying to get closer. To feel something different than what was going through me right then.

He took it, sitting down beside me, and pulled me to his frame, shielding me with his arms.

"It's going to be okay."

Those brief words made all the difference.

As my friend uttered them, I felt as if the struggle was a little bit easier, now that he was there. I could catch a small breath.

There was someone on the margin, pulling me ashore.

So I cried into Jasper's chest, and heard him soothe him. I let him do it, because I knew this was too much to deal with just yet. If I'd ever be able to, at all.

And, eventually, my tears stopped.

My body was heavy and tired. I felt like I'd gotten beaten, or spent hours swimming. Weak.

It was terrible and unsettling to feel this way, but I'd set myself up for it. I was the one who surrendered to being vulnerable, to get hurt. And I did it out of love, out of trust.

He deserved neither. I _hated_ _him _for it.

I hated him for betraying my trust, for shredding my heart, the same heart I'd given up with such hope.

And then, I couldn't sit anymore. I couldn't stay still and continue to listen to my own thoughts. I needed to get out of this situation, out of my body, of myself. I needed to do something so I could just stop thinking.

Gently, so I would convey I wasn't shying away from him, I pulled away from Jasper's arms and stood, shutting out all the static.

Even if I knew I'd probably never be able to fully get back on my feet.


	33. The Time To Fight

**As promised, a speedy update! **

**I wanted to thank everyone for the flood of supportive reviews I received. It showed me your ability of getting wrapped up in the story and trust the author – and I'm most thankful for the later. Lots of love to you all!**

**Before you can move on to the chapter itself, I just wanted to state something as clearly as possible. Just because I write about a certain behavior, that doesn't mean I condone it or support it in any way. It's exactly what it is, fiction, and I hope you see it that way too.**

_**Soundtrack: The Fray – Look After You/ Snow Patrol – Run / One Republic - Mercy**_

"Bella, what are you doing?" Jasper asked, anguish lacing his voice. He was too sensitive for his own good, picking up on my emotions and feeling them with me.

But his presence brought me peace and clarity, or, at least, as much of both of those things as I could probably gather.

"I just need to go out," I croaked, going against every better instinct I had. It came much more naturally to stay still and rummage through my mind and figure out what my next move would be.

I'd always acted that way before, but, this once, it wouldn't do. I needed some time before that. I couldn't start picking up the pieces just yet.

Rummaging through my closet, I found my favorite concert t-shirt and a black pair of jeans. With a bit of dark makeup and my mood, I was sure I'd make one hell of a Goth.

I washed my face and changed in the bathroom quickly, putting on my long coat, determined to do something different. Anything, really, as long as it kept me from facing things for just a few hours.

"Where are you going?" Jasper insisted, his voice clear of any judgments, just concern, and I pursed my lips.

I didn't know, but walking aimlessly at night didn't sound like a very bright idea either. So, I concocted the one plan that could trump that in its stupidity.

"I need to do some drinking," I stated, my voice surprising me with its firm tone. You wouldn't guess that my previous experiences with alcohol were insignificant.

I grabbed my keys, cell phone and wallet, making sure not to pack any credit cards and only a sensible amount of money. I had already cracked the door open when my tall friend jumped up off the floor to follow me, taking my car keys away.

"We're going in my car," he whispered, and my eyebrows shot up. We walked a few steps out of the dorm before my surprise wore off.

"You're not trying to change my mind about this, are you?" I asked, knowing I was, most likely, right on the money.

"No, I'm not. I know you're smart enough to know what's best for you, and if you need to drink, then let's go. I'll at least make sure you're thoroughly plastered and get you get back here safely in a few hours."

He smiled sadly at me, and I tried to give him a forced smile back, my vision blurring with unshed tears.

"You're a good friend," I whispered, giving him a one-armed hug. He reciprocated, trying to put as much human warmth in it as possible, and a few tears fell unbound from my eyes. It really didn't matter if I was crying or not, by then.

Feeling much better and safer about the whole situation, I trusted the decision as to where we were going to Jasper, and he didn't disappoint.

A quarter of an hour later, we were parking outside a small Irish pub, crammed between a bookshop and a music store, in a nice part of town. Inside, you could see a bit of everything: white collar businessman watching the game on the big flat-screen and several couples talking and having their drinks, peacefully.

"I'm not sure this place is… Crappy enough for what we're here to do," I muttered, and Jasper just shook his head.

"Don't worry, they won't throw us out. I come here for a beer once in a while."

Taking in that information, we entered the small pub and Jasper greeted the bartender quietly. Contrarily to what I always did when going out with Alice, we sat at the bar, and I set my bag on my lap, breathing in and getting ready.

I was never one to care for beer, and I knew it would take a considerable amount to get me «thoroughly plastered», as Jasper had put it.

He had thought it through, obviously.

"Eight shots of tequila, please," he ordered, and the bartender's jaw hit the floor.

He didn't say anything as he grabbed the bottle and poured the shots of amber liquid, but kept eyeing us suspiciously.

I shot him a glare, daring him to make any kind of comment, and he eventually picked up on the fact that this wasn't a situation to give advice on.

I was quite sure that, between my swollen face and bloodshot eyes and Jasper's size, we would be left alone.

Sighing, I lifted one of the little shot glasses and watched, confused, as Jasper mimicked my movements.

"What are you doing?" I whispered, incredulously.

"I'm not letting you drink alone. I know this is your first," he smiled, earning himself a sad, hollow snicker on my part, "and I want you to get the full experience. Being your drinking buddy is the very least I can do."

I smiled sadly at him, but then something clicked in my mind.

"You can't, Jas. Someone has got to drive the car home."

He shook his head, rolling the glass in his hand.

"We'll take a cab, and come back for it tomorrow. Now, drink up and let me know what you think."

Staring at the shot glass as if it was going to grow a head and byte me, I had one last _what the hell_ thought before finally downing it.

The liquid felt as if it was scorching my throat and esophagus, and tears started forming in my eyes. I felt instantly warmer, as I heard Jasper slamming his glass beside me.

"This stuff is intense," I managed, as a form of comment, and Jasper grabbed the next one. "Really? Just like that?"

"The secret in getting thoroughly plastered," he explained, looking just like he'd just had a glass of water, "is to drink while you can still see the glass and pick it up. So, go for it."

The second one was easier, since I knew what to expect, and by the third shot I could feel a nice tingling warmth coursing through me.

The forth shot was a mistake.

After that, I felt as if my brain was sloshing around in an unpleasant way, and asked Jasper if this was it.

He was still sitting as straight as before, which I really couldn't understand, but his eyes looked brighter than before, a slight blush was staining his face.

"Yep, that's it; let's go. Could you please get us a cab?" he politely asked the bartender, and the man merely nodded, apparently familiarized with the request, as he took the bills Jasper had slipped him.

I giggled for no good reason, and the blond man turned to me in questioning.

"I just thought it was funny that I now know my drinking limit is four shots of tequila. I mean, that's not that bad for a virgin, right?" I managed.

"Not bad at all, Swan. I bet that, with a bit of practice, you could drink me under the table," he smiled, helping me get down from the high stool and putting my coat back on.

"There won't be a chance for practice, Whitlock. But if I ever get my heart broken again, I know just the guy to call," I mumbled out, slowly, trying to make sense of my own words.

I spent the cab ride laughing at nothing and everything, whereas Jasper seemed to be exceptionally quiet, only agreeing with me once in a while.

I tried my best not to fall flat on my behind getting out of the cab, and accepted Jasper's suggestion of walking me back to my room, afraid I'd pass out on my way there.

Suddenly, all I felt like doing was having some sleep.

Jasper was saying his goodbyes by my door as he swayed, stretching his arms out to steady himself. I grimaced.

"You're drunk," I stated.

"Well, so are you, that's the point," he frowned back, and we erupted in a fit of laughter a few seconds later, fueled by the alcohol and the sheer idiocy of the situation.

"I'll get you a blanket and you'll sleep here today. Just… Don't sleep on Alice's comforter. She'd kill you if you threw up on her stuff," I managed, laughing to myself. I was a riot of one, that night.

"Alright," Jasper mumbled, taking the pile of blankets and arranging a few layers of bedding over Alice's with my help.

Once he was taking off his coat and getting settled, I handed him one of my big t-shirts and headed to the bathroom, throwing on my frumpiest, oldest and most comfortable set of pajamas.

After a poor attempt at walking straight back to bed, I lied down facing the ceiling, mimicking my friend's stance.

Even through my alcohol induced incoherency, I could feel the weight of a tremendous sadness in my chest.

The words were out of me before I realized I'd thought them.

"He never said he loved me. Now I know why." _And to think I believed it would be just a matter of time._

I didn't want to cry anymore, I didn't want to feel anymore, and I cursed alcohol for not even allowing me that much.

I felt a warm, lean hand searching for mine, attached to an arm stretched from the bed beside my own. I took it, meeting him in the middle, and held on to it for dear life.

Because it was a physical evidence of something good in the midst of it all, something warm, comforting, a lifeline.

So I told him. Word for word, I told him everything; from the challenge to the reunion that decided it all. The blue folder in the trash, and his deceit.

The guilt in his eyes I missed to correctly diagnose.

It was quiet for a long while, and I just focused on breathing, on keeping on breathing.

"After what happened, was it still worth it?" I heard Jasper ask, in a subdued voice.

I knew I could ignore the question, and that he would think no less of me for it.

But I needed to answer him as much as I needed to do that for myself.

"No, it wasn't. And, please, never let me forget it," I managed out, shocked on my own sobs.

"I won't," he promised, keeping my hand in his until I finally fell asleep.

My head was impossibly heavy, the next morning, and it hurt to even think - which is probably why I woke up. My eyelids felt glued together, so I didn't even make a move to open my eyes.

A short distance away, I heard a groan, recognizing it as Jasper's, and the past night came to me, little by little.

"Jas?" I whispered, knowing being loud would only make it hurt more.

"I'm here," was his muffled response. He better not have thrown up on Alice's stuff, or he'd be a dead man.

Though, if he was feeling half as bad as me, that actually sounded nice.

"Why the hell... Would you ever let me drink that?" I asked, sick in every possible way, and still refusing to open my eyes. I had a hunch that even the smallest movement could trigger impossibly worse suffering.

"The thing about getting thoroughly plastered... Is that you also experience a very thorough and painful hangover, and I wanted to make sure you never got drunk like that again," he answered, and I was truly in awe of his coherence.

"Damn straight," I managed, and finally acknowledged my need to get up. I didn't want to, but my bladder hadn't received the memo.

As slowly as I possibly could, I moved to a sitting position and checked myself to see if I was in control. I wasn't, by any means, hungry – the very thought of food made me nauseous – but, at least, I didn't feel like throwing up either. This probably had something to do with not having eaten decently the day before.

Shutting away those memories once more, I gingerly made the trip to and back from the bathroom, raided the fridge and got out two bottles of juice, handing one of them to Jas. It was the least offensive item in there, and our livers would probably thank us after all the poison we'd ingested.

But I didn't get a chance to tell him that.

A loud, obnoxious knock on the door startled us, and I let out a small groan, hurrying to get it so it would just stop.

Apparently, the time for refusing to deal with things was over.

Standing at my door, looking worse than a corpse, was Edward himself.

And it brought a fresh, crushing wave of emotions I really couldn't handle. It still stung to see him, his dead, bloodshot eyes, unshaved face, paler than ever. It stung even more to discover that pull of protectiveness and care hadn't ebbed away.

I wasn't a monster. He was.

That realization made me angrier than I'd ever been in my life.

At him, for treating me like a fool and using me. At myself, for allowing it and being stupid enough not to know.

"Please… Just let me explain."

His words cut through my emotional stupor and I finally spoke.

"I don't want to talk; I just want you to leave."

"We can still work through this, Bella, please, it was a mistake…" he pleaded, taking one step in my direction. My anger towards him flared, and I took one step back.

"Why should I accept your apologies, your explanations? How am I supposed to _work through_ this and make things right when you _crushed_ the trust I had to work so hard to give you?!" I yelled, making my own head throb and earning me a grimace of pain on his part. This wasn't helping me, or him. This wasn't going to end well.

My words startled even me in their accuracy: this couldn't be fixed. The very foundation of an _us_ was rotten to begin with.

I barely had the strength to pick up my own pieces, if that at all, and I wouldn't try it again. I wouldn't go through it again.

I wouldn't survive it.

He closed his eyes, but took yet another step forward, shaking his head.

"No, we can talk, and then you'll understand. Maybe you won't take me back, but at least…"

"_Leave_."

I put all the weight of the meager emotional strength I still possessed behind that word. The last thing I wanted was to have to deal with his excuses. I just stared at the wall by the door, the very place where I'd spent hours crying, because of him.

"I think you should listen to Bella," Jasper said, his quiet presence right next to me. It lent me strength to look up again; I had support.

Edward's face was blank, eyes wide, trained on Jasper's chest. Furiously, then, he eyed us up and down.

In two seconds, it dawned on me.

Of course, I and Jas looked like hell. Tequila and a bad breakup did that to a person, and, even if this had nothing to do with Jasper, it had still upset him.

This was how we appeared to him: obviously straight out of bed, in our disheveled hair, still reeking of alcohol, Jas wearing one of my t-shirts.

Oh, _shit._

Edward lost it quick and hard; fists and jaw clenched, he exhaled a breath though his nose, glaring at the both of us.

"So this is why you turned Alice down?" he spat. "So you could take advantage of Bella?!"

Exerting a tremendous amount of effort, but still seething, Jasper stepped in front of me, getting in Edward's face, up close and unafraid, shoving him back to the corridor, his blue eyes burning through those of my former boyfriend.

I, on the other hand, was terrified.

"I was the _friend_ who was here to pick up the pieces, nothing else. _You_ were the one doing the damage. Now, leave Alice out of it, leave Bella alone and get the hell out of here!" Jasper shouted.

To my utter relief, Edward stormed out, and Jas shut the door behind him. Hard enough for some of the plaster around the frame to fall off.

In a mix of relief and sadness, tears started falling, and I placed my forehead and hands against the wall. This was so screwed up.

For a few seconds, I really believed they were going to break into a fight.

I told myself I was just relieved Jasper didn't get hurt. I was only half-lying.

"Do you think he believed you?" I asked my friend, as he came to soothe me and encompass my shaking torso in a warm hug.

"About us not sleeping together?" he replied, and I knew it wasn't just for the sake of clarification. He probably wanted to be sure I understood the full implication of Edward's words, and his own reaction. I nodded my response, and heard – as well as felt – Jasper sigh. "I don't know, Bella. The way he reacted… I don't think so."

"How can it all go downhill so fast? Twenty-four hours ago, I was happy," I whispered.

"At least now you're living the truth," he whispered back.

And I almost blurted out that I preferred the lie. And I had – until I was able to perceive it for what it was. Wasn't it always so?

"I need a shower," I stated, instead of launching myself and him into a philosophical discussion about the happiness in ignorance.

"You're not calling Alice?"

My spirits plummeted further, and, for the first time, I faced that prospect. It wasn't good. She would certainly freak out, then come back to Dartmouth as fast as humanly possible, and then try to fix things, in that order.

I didn't want any of those.

"No, I'll tell her when she gets here. It's only a few days. I just don't want her to cut her trip short." I sighed. "Jasper, thanks. For facing him today, for what you did yesterday, the whole thing."

He gave me a real, empathetic smile in return and moved to fold the sheets and blankets he'd used while I stepped in the shower.

I let the warm water soothe me as best as I could. It was time to face things. To deal with what had passed and what was to come.

You often hear the expression «time goes by». It's the cruelest joke ever told. Whether you want it or not, time does go by and things do go forth – never at a speed you're quite happy with. But, for the most part, much too fast for comprehension.

Even if stopping for just a few seconds, just for a breath, would make such a difference.

A bubble. An ethereal, fragile, glorious bubble. A utopia. I'd believed in that bubble, I'd believed in the kind of love that ran so deep, and was so thoroughly shared and experienced, that set you apart from the rest of the world, to a point where the two were no longer themselves, but a unit, somehow greater than the sum of the both.

But life drags you back, pulls you under and pushes you along a river of static. All the things you don't really care for, and can only do your best to avoid, never completely.

The bubble couldn't last.

The beautiful song playing in my mind had stopped abruptly, and for good. I'd lost that comfort and refuge, severed myself so completely from it the mere memory brought physical pain.

Going back to who I'd been _before _Edward came into my life wasn't an option, but I could, perhaps, try.

And that was the only thing that kept me from curling into a ball in that shower. The discovery that, in the face of it all, I still had fight in me.


	34. The Scars You Bear

**Hey everyone!**

**This was one hard chapter to get out. It got written and re-written and I tossed and turned, trying to get it right. It's one of my favorites, though.**

**Oh, and the countdown towards the end has started! I'm thinking six more chapters, people.**

**Thanks, as always, for the overwhelming support!**

_**Soundtrack: Depeche Mode – Dream On/ Muse – Time is Running Out/ The Exies – These Are The Days / The Exies - Ugly**_

"I'm really not up to it," I argued, trying to get him to see my point.

"It's New Year's Eve; you're not spending the night in here alone. I'd gladly stay with you, but that's not healthy either. Now go get dressed."

Southern manners? Absolutely true.

But I knew nothing of Southern stubbornness up until meeting Jasper. He could give Alice a run for her money. His calm, collected, flawless logic and cute, cherub-like blond curls gave no room for argument.

Sighing, and half admitting defeat, I countered:

"I'm not going to a club. I just… I don't like that kind of thing. And I refuse to leave this room without knowing exactly where we're going."

Jasper looked thoughtful for a second, and then added, in a quieter tone:

"I had a list of suggestions, but how about we just take the car and watch some fireworks? No human interaction, except for me, and I'm a pretty quiet guy."

Defeated, and honestly happy with the compromise, I stepped into the bathroom and held my clothes for the night.

I'd planned on wearing a teal knit dress that went just above my knees and a pair of tight fitting jeans, figuring it would be cold, out by the lake.

But I hadn't managed to take apart my bag just yet.

Sighing, I slipped inside my hoodie, noticing, not without its note of sadness, that it still smelled like Edward.

He'd left more permanent marks on me, though.

Noticing my mood as I finally considered myself presentable, Jasper tried to soothe me:

"Don't do that to yourself, Bella. This memory doesn't have to be about him. You shouldn't get anymore scars out of this."

I paused to mull over his words, and spared my bag a long look. It was still leaning against the bed; I haven't even moved it for sleep. Truth was, after the mess on Saturday, I had been too exhausted to really think about it; a small blessing, for sure.

And I decided that it would never be a good time. And the longer I postponed it, the harder it would get.

Sitting on my bed beside Jasper, I bent over to get the zipper and searched for a specific item, which I easily found, due to its size.

Rolling the sizeable tinted glass bottle on my hands, I turned for my friend's benefit and explained:

"I bought this on Thursday." I hesitated, but urged myself to focus and get it over with; Jas knew everything else, anyway. "I'd planned on popping this open, making a toast at midnight, and then I'd tell him. I wanted the first words he'd hear this New Year's to be '_I love you'_. I thought I might trick him into a small picnic by the lake, or by the fireplace…" I trailed off, the scene still playing out in my mind, just the way I'd pictured it. _And he'd say it back_. "How's that for a scar?" I asked, a rhetorical question, breaking myself out of my musings.

And then, to my utter shock, Jasper just tugged on the hem of his t-shirt and sweatshirt, taking them off completely.

And my shock had nothing to do with Jasper being half naked, sitting on my bed. That thought wasn't even worth processing.

All I could see were scars.

Some jagged, short, plump with pink scar tissue; some longer and thinner, just a brown line drawing the map of his mangled flesh.

I looked away as quickly as I possibly could, probably not as quickly as I should, but he'd caught me by surprise.

I'd noticed one on his neck, a long time ago – but, of course, said nothing. I was most likely something he didn't feel comfortable with and I'd be an idiot to mention it.

This, however, was hard to overlook. Especially because I wanted to make sure he was okay, irrational as that impulse might be, as those were completely healed.

"It's okay," I heard him say, his voice firm and calm as always. As I turned to look at him, I looked into his eyes – not his chest or back – and that made him smile.

We understood each other.

Now, we both knew scars were there, but what really mattered was to know our friend was alright.

"Can I ask how old they are?"

He tilted his head, and I returned his smirk with a sheepish one of my own. True, that wasn't the question I really wanted to ask, but I'd never put him on the spot like that.

"I'm a couple of years older than you and Alice, as you know," he started, and his whole face relaxed at the mention of her name. It tugged at my heart in a couple of different ways, one of which painful. "And you two never asked, but I wasn't off finding myself or anything that poetic. This isn't a cool story to tell my grandchildren fifty years from now," he warned. He was telling me, in no uncertain terms, that I didn't have to hear it. I just nodded for him to continue as he wished.

"For several reasons, one of which was probably never really having an authority figure present while growing up, I was always fascinated with the idea of joining the Army. Back home, that's something to aspire to, and regarded with respect. I was so young… but so determined, so certain," he reminisced. It was easy to picture him, such a sweet southern boy, glory and patriotism tugging at his heart.

I knew a little about expectations.

Jasper broke the silence himself, continuing with his account:

"When I first got the news that my unit was about to be deployed, you wouldn't imagine what was going through my head. Forget any drug of any kind," he assured me, waving his hand for effect, "that is the greatest high, without a doubt. I was plump with pride and glee, just anxious to go fight in the middle of a desert, to test myself. I was completely certain I was ready. But six months later, as I was lying in a hospital bed, I knew all of that was gone."

His tone had turned cold and sour, and I decided to get a question in to break him away from those memories.

"Wounded and homesick?"

To my surprise, Jasper shook his head emphatically.

"I was dreading my return, more so than having to stay there. But I knew I'd have to face my family eventually, and that they'd never understand. They treated me like a hero, and I got every drop of glory for it I'd ever expected – but I was only ashamed of what I'd done, Bella. Of the things I saw. I can't be proud of it, most of the time I just wish I could forget it," he drawled on, his tone cavernous and distant.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"If this showed me anything at all, it's that we're all left with scars," he smiled, bitterly, at his own metaphor, for the marks on his torso were very much real. "For better or for worse, you can't go through life unscathed. Mine are for all to see, but I know yours are there too. Don't push it away, don't pull it under, or it will morph into something you can't quite control and it will destroy what can still be good. This is only what you make of it."

I was more than a bit stunned by his account; not once since I met him had I known he carried this with him. I really wished he didn't, as he was one of the most deserving individuals I'd ever met.

I was pretty certain this had to do with his doubt towards Alice, too, and I wished it wasn't so.

But, most of all, I wished he wasn't right.

I wished I wasn't just as permanently changed and marked as my friend was, but I knew better. I thought of my Dad, of the love he still held for a woman who'd left him twenty-two years ago; we were too much alike for my own good.

"You still wear your dog tags," I remarked, seeing the two metal plates hanging from his neck, thinking he, too, hung on to things way beyond their value.

"These aren't mine."

His words stung with sorrow and guilt, and the explanation that followed was unnecessary. I already knew he'd lost someone meaningful during his years in the Army.

His late best-friend's tags were the physical reminder of that loss – during an incident that almost took his life as well.

And it put things into perspective.

This was a _breakup_. I hadn't gotten shipped off to war in a foreign country and lost someone among a river of blood and shards.

I had to slap myself in the face for the sheer ridicule of the situation – and scoffed at Jasper that he'd even made the comparison. He didn't think I was right, though.

Seeing as we didn't have a lot of time, after hanging out and talking about Jasper's past, we picked up the bottle and drove for a while, finding a nice, quiet spot, high up, where we could see the fireworks.

We popped the Champaign open – an amusing process for complete amateurs – and sat on the hood of the car, talking and sipping, for hours.

And I found the quiet I needed to think a little, as the hours dragged on, the conversation lulled, and the sun started peeking out in the East.

I was scarred, but at least I'd taken the chance. At least I wouldn't be left wondering what might have happened if I had gone for it, ten years down the road.

And I most certainly wasn't going to push it away or pull it under.

Some dreams you need to let go of, and make room for new ones, new objectives, and new horizons.

Jasper taught me that, and I grew to respect him even more for what he'd done with his life.

I was looking forward to going back to work – even if walking around the campus might earn me some unpleasant encounters. I needed to pull myself together and do my best on my finals.

Nothing had gone according to plan, but, then again, it never goes. I wouldn't let the dog tags around my neck read "bitter and heartbroken". I wouldn't let it define me, and I was taking back control over my own life.

I wasn't looking forward to some things, though.

And one of them was waiting for me when I got back to my room, after an early brunch with Jas.

"Bella? I was freaking out; your cell phone has been off for days!" Alice shouted, jumping from behind the door as soon as I got the key in, engulfing me in a vice-grip some would call a hug.

"It's fine, Alice. I'm alright," I stated, my voice slightly gritty from spending the whole night out in the cold. "Why did you come back so soon?"

By now, I was picturing all the scenarios involving Al, her family, and a cataclysmic fight. Those weren't that hard to come up with; the spark could be something as simple as a snappy comment on her haircut.

"Don't be silly, of course you're not alright! Edward called and I got on the first flight back."

I felt anger bubbling up again. Cullen was just adding to the offense, wasn't he?

"He didn't have the right to do that," I spat, my voice low and menacing. I was picturing myself tearing him limb from limb; it was oddly therapeutical.

"What? Of course he did the right thing, I can't believe you weren't the one to call me!"

Oh, great. Now I was getting the guilt card.

I went to sit on the edge of the desk, sighing, and Jasper had a chance to come in, greeting Alice quietly and awkwardly.

She looked back and forth between the both of us, and I grew angrier.

"You really believed him?"

My voice was completely emotionless then, as I tried not to yell at her. I was angry at her for entertaining the thought that I'd go and sleep with Jasper right after breaking up – or ever, for that matter. I wouldn't make a move on him if he was the last man on Earth.

They had something I would never stand in the middle of. And that alone would suffice to quell any doubt.

Furthermore, I loved him like a brother.

I gave myself a second to focus on that before turning to Alice, still in time to catch some silent conversation she was having with Jas. I had to keep rational and not let her be the target of all the anger I was carrying.

She wasn't the one I was truly angry at.

"I… No, I didn't," she stammered. "Not about that. I just think you should take the time to listen. He is blaming himself for the whole thing, if you only knew what it's doing to him…" she trailed off, her eyes alight at the possibility of patching things up.

I was seething.

"What it's doing to _him_?!" I hissed, trying my very hardest not to shout at the same girl who'd hopped on a plane to take care of me on New Year's Eve. "Alice, are you sure he told you the whole story? Because this was pretty much unilateral. _Edward_ betrayed _me_."

Eyebrows knitted, Jasper stood a couple of feet to my right, staring at Alice as if he'd never seen her before.

"I'm just saying you don't have all the facts," she insisted, clearly not intending to back off.

"Are you serious?" Jasper's voice cut through the tense air like a knife, and both I and Al turned to him. "Have you any idea of the wreck she was on Friday night?"

I grimaced. It doesn't matter if it's true or not – no one wants to be called a wreck.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here," Alice stated, and I knew she meant that with all her kind little heart. "But if Bella shuts herself off, this can't be fixed, and they deserve another shot."

"He deserves nothing else on my part," I stated, finality ringing in my voice. "Can you please drop it?"

"No."

Stubborn, stubborn woman.

"How can you take that…" Jasper stopped himself in time. "How can you take Cullen's side in this?"

"I'm not taking sides…" Alice tried, but was immediately cut off.

"Have you stopped to consider whether or not Bella would be better off without that guy in her life, or that, I don't know, she might want to decide things for herself?"

It was like watching a tennis match, escalating aggression and all.

I was going to have to act as the referee.

"I appreciate your concern, I really do," I got in, trying to get them to stop. "You guys have my best interest in heart, I know that. And, Alice, if you decide to go on being Edward's friend… That's fine with me, I know you got close in the last few months," I got out, with tremendous effort. Jasper looked at me as if I'd grown a second head. "But I'm doing things my way. When, and if I decide to talk to Edward, I will," I explained, and my best friend crossed her arms in front of her chest. "After all, I don't think it's really possible to avoid him for three and a half years," I added, more to myself than to any of them.

"It's not my place to justify his actions, he'll have to do that himself," Alice stated, slowly, "but if I were you, I wouldn't wait very long."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, intrigued by what she meant.

"Because once he turns in his resignation and comes clean about who actually did the work, like he's planning on… He'll probably get kicked out of Dartmouth."

Jasper glared at her, clearly thinking she shouldn't have said anything, and the black-haired pixie just glared back. The distance between them was growing, and I was, even if not solely, the cause for that.

I'd have to stop focusing on myself soon and try to fix it. The time to butt out of their business was over.

But could I truly put everything aside to keep Edward from getting kicked out of Dartmouth?

Did he really deserve to stay, after what he'd done?

Did I really want him gone?


	35. Suspended Existance

**Hey everyone! **

**Sorry about the extra time it took me to update, but life got in the way – and this chapter was honestly hard to write. Only five more to go!**

**Oh, and I also apologize for not having answered some of the reviews, but my pc had to be fixed, and my time online was, therefore, limited.**

**Enjoy!**

**Soundtrack: Coldplay – Don't Panic / Coldplay - Trouble**

I breathed the soft, gentle air, no longer an aggressive current, but a gentle whisper around me.

The weather had quieted some, and the change was nice.

As my boots clacked, almost silently, against the floor, my unoccupied mind inevitably steered towards Edward.

As the days passed, and I made an attempt at burying myself in books and work, I failed miserably in detaching myself from him.

The anger I felt had boiled down to pungent resentment, still very much present – and the hurt, too. As Jasper had put it, the scars were there.

I had never before considered just how big of a role he'd played in my life. During the time we spent together, he became my main focus of attention, my shelter, my lover, and everything I needed all rolled into one.

As they say, when it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.

I always knew I wasn't the easiest person to love, nor was I ever perfect. But, most of all, I'd believed that he loved me passionately, unconditionally, and that alone was _intoxicating_.

The aftermath was longer a process than I'd imagined, and I hadn't witnessed any healing just yet. Just like a druggie going through a very slow, very torturous withdrawal.

I'd find myself stuck in a moment, staring out a window or through an object, just because a memory took hold of me. It didn't help that these were the best moments of my day, the simple remembrance of what used to be.

I had to keep telling myself all of it had been a lie, but a part of me didn't really believe it.

I kept telling myself I had to let go, move on, and stop stealing myself from the present, living in daydreams.

And, of course, I told myself I had to stop loving him, but I still did.

Of course, this had no consequence other than hurting me further, but I was a bit tired of struggling, by then. I'd let time take its course, and pray that it would actually make a difference – a plan I wasn't very confident on, to say the least.

Alice's disapproving glare met me at every corner, but I'd learned to ignore it by now. She was more than vocal about her opinions – something along the lines of me throwing my one chance of happiness out the window by doing nothing.

Talking to her would have been just as effective as having an intricate discussion with a wall; she just didn't get it.

Rosalie's intervention in my favor had spared me some headaches since (she was never a big fan of Edward's), and the finals were taking up a lot of our time, so I hoped Al would drop it soon.

And I wasn't intending on doing nothing.

It was the third week of January, and I was walking towards my Anatomy I final; coincidently, the first on the calendar. I'd discussed what to do with Jasper many times, as he was the one person I'd actually chosen to spend any time with, and his answers had been cautious, never tainted by bias tendencies.

They hadn't been straight, either.

My mind had been set from the start, I suppose; I couldn't picture it any other way.

It was barely seven thirty in the morning, and the bright orange sunlight was bathing the tall windows as I made my way in. The building itself was still in complete silence, as the test was an hour away.

As I slowed my pace, I readied myself as best as I could and hoped my assumptions were correct. I contoured the wall and stepped in, holding a breath.

I was right. I did know something about Edward, after all. I knew he'd come early, trying to catch Gaspard before the final had even started.

The scene before me was eerily familiar: Edward was the only one in the room, sitting in the front row, with his legs stretched out. The sunlight seeped in, marking his profile.

It was the first day of class all over again, as if nothing had happened in between.

Only it had.

We were no longer an item, and the whispers circulating around campus were a testament to that. I had to endure being a subject of gossip – of petty people trying to make sense of what they knew nothing of. Some of it sickened me; some of it was just plain ridiculous.

But it took seeing a strawberry blonde beauty approaching Edward to turn my stomach and make bile rise to my throat.

What had I been, in the expanse of his life?

That question had bothered me at night, as I tried readjusting to the old mattress, in a room that didn't feel like my own.

Probably sensing my stare, Edward turned his head in my direction and I darted my eyes away just as quickly.

Deciding to stick to tradition, I went to sit in the same chair I'd sat in that faithful day, but didn't greet him in any way.

We were past courteous, at that point.

"Alice told me you're giving up the job. That you're telling Gaspard it was my work you turned in."

My voice sounded hollow and detached. There was so much to tell him, and so little.

So much I wanted to ask, but didn't want to know the answer to.

"It's true," he confirmed, his voice cavernous.

That was almost laughable coming from him in these circumstances, but I believed it.

"Don't," I blurted out. I had a whole speech prepared, but saw no sense to it. He would have been able to see right through me; I was never able to lie properly. "I mean… If you want to quit, than do," I backtracked, seeing as he might misinterpret my request. "But don't say anything about me being involved."

"Why?"

The question was so charged, borderline accusatory, that I was compelled to look his way.

In his eyes.

They were searching mine for something – as he'd done before.

Was he hoping to see forgiveness? Or maybe weakness, sufficient to take him back?

"Because this was on you, Edward," I answered, and my voice cracked under the emotion that I didn't want to display, as I uttered his name. "And, even if my fault in some ways, I don't deserve to feel guilty for this. I won't have your future weighing on my conscience. Plagiarism isn't tolerated at all; you'd be expelled from Dartmouth, and I very much doubt you'd get in any respectable college afterwards."

How pathetic was I?

At least, I was at peace.

Whatever he decided to do, I was no longer responsible for it – for I had been able (even if barely) to rise above the pain he inflicted and actually _worry_ about his future.

"Bella… it wasn't your fault."

His voice floated to me after I'd resumed staring at the white projection screen in the wall in front of us, my name rolling off his tongue like a small prayer. It both sickened me and tugged at my heart.

And I just had to ask.

"Whose was it, then? Why did you do it?"

Silence dragged on after that, and I almost thought he'd chosen not to answer. In fact, the room was so silent I couldn't even hear him breathing, and wondered if he was still there at all. But his answer came:

"It's my fault and my fault alone. That's all that matters."

An intense sense of defeat seeped into me, chilling me to my bones, and I fought back tears. I should have been angry, as I'd demanded an explanation that he didn't deliver. But I was only mournful, as he seemed to have given up entirely.

He wasn't even going to try and justify himself; probably for the same reason he had made no efforts to contact me, those past weeks.

Truth is, I wouldn't have talked to him – just as I wouldn't have accepted his justifications.

That didn't counter the fact that it hurt to know he wasn't even trying.

Having quelled the pesky, Alice-like voice of my conscience, I got up from my chair, unable to stay there another minute, chocking on everything left unsaid, and went to get a cup of tea to kill some time.

As I got back, the room was starting to fill, and I sought seating as far away from him as possible, a murmur informing anyone who cared to listen that the pet pupil had quit.

My name wasn't mentioned.

I was left wondering if Edward had granted my request – or if I'd just supplied his way out of trouble.

That day, he sat a few chairs away, not close enough to really bother me, not far enough for me to forget he was there.

Sometimes his gaze would fall upon me – something I knew instead of seeing – and the prickling sensation would irk and please me at the same time, which was, most of all, confusing.

As soon as I was done, I turned it in, not even bothering to look my answers over. I was just glad I was through with the subject from hell.

Feeling much lighter, now that the conversation I'd been dreading for weeks was over with, I hurried towards my locker to get my gym bag.

My best friend blocked the way, carrying it in her arms. I was puzzled for a second, as I didn't remember giving her the combination.

"All done with your final already?" she smiled, and I got instinctually suspicious. What was she so happy about?

"Yes… Just got out. "

"Go have fun, then," she replied, enthusiastically, shoving the black bag into my hands.

I quirked an eyebrow.

"What is it?"

"You told him to stay," she simply stated, as if that was the answer to anything.

News traveled fast on campus.

"No, Al, I didn't," I countered, my voice dead-serious. "I told him not to get himself expelled, but that was it. Don't read anything else into it."

"You might not have seen it, Bella, but I did. The change in you once he was around," she countered, her voice sweetening. "You deserve that happiness. So, thank you for giving Edward the chance to stay and fight for you."

I didn't have the heart to tell her he'd already quit.

"Whatever he might have given me, he took it back," was my reply, before giving her a one-arm hug and whispering good luck for her first final.

Three hours later, my mind was the furthest away possible from the mess my life was in.

My muscles spasmed, and a new coat of sweat trickled down my back as I gasped out my breaths, the rhythmic motions of my body coming to an all time high, just before I let go.

When I did stop, sweet, blissful relief engulfed me, and I could feel my body lock in place, rendering me immobile for a couple of seconds.

"Come on, Bella!" Emmett urged, but I waved my hand, a gesture clearly meant to say I was done for the day.

Sitting on the rubbery floor, I rubbed my sore shoulders and breathed in deeply, enjoying the relief.

"I've got to admit," I croaked out, "that was lots of fun."

The big man gave me a goofy smile back, pride dancing in his eyes as he cast a loving glance to the gym he'd built.

"Told 'ya."

Jasper came to sit by my side, and even though he'd been working out just as hard for just as long as me, he didn't seem ruffled at all.

Damn Army training.

"Kicking something really does help with anger management," he whispered, something I alone was meant to hear, and earned himself a smirk in response.

Kickboxing would have never been my idea – as I didn't enjoy violent sports.

Or so I thought.

"Were you picturing someone in particular as you punched the hell out of those pads, Bella?" Emmett joked, and I actually snickered.

"Not really. I even let him stay in Dartmouth and everything," I countered, the comment slipping before I knew it.

Jasper gave my shoulder a squeeze, but Emmett just looked confused.

"I thought you were bulking up to go kick him in the nuts."

Sensitivity was never his main trait.

"If violence was the answer, I would have beaten her to it," Jasper snorted, and my mind went back to that Saturday morning hangover.

"And what would you have done? Keyed his car?"

Emmett's barb didn't go unnoticed, and Jasper got up swiftly, elbowing him in the ribs.

I sighed. Testosterone.

In between kickboxing practice and studying for my finals, there was barely enough time to sleep – but I managed to help around the department as much as I could for the following weeks.

And there was finally space to breathe.

As most counted down the days until total freedom, I was counting those until the beginning of the following semester.

Internship.

More working hours meant less time to live inside my own head, and I was honestly looking forward to the next stage of my education. Things were, for the first time since the end of December, looking up.

I should have known it wouldn't last.

The week after the finals were over, my phone disrupted me as I read, and I glanced to the screen to check out the caller I.D.

I stared at it for five seconds, confused and taken by surprise, as the familiar number was the last one I expected.

Perhaps in a rare moment of clairvoyance, my hand stopped mid-air, involuntarily, as it stretched to pick it up. Ignoring it, of course, I picked it up.

"Hello?"


	36. Bite the Bullet

**Hey everyone! I'm really interested in the response I'll be getting on this one. Thank you so much for the support! Four more chapters to go – and this is a long one.**

**Oh, and in this chapter there's a hidden reference to one of my favorite books. It'll be interesting to see who spots it!**

"_Hello?"_

"Hey, Bella, how are you? It's been a while."

"I'm… fine, Phil," I answered, my stepfather's sudden call and interest in my life stunning me into utter confusion. "What's up?"

"Nothing much. Listen, I didn't want to worry you or anything, but as I was waiting I got to thinking it might be a good idea to give you a head's up."

"What about?" I asked, immediately, sitting up in bed and sending the book flying to the carpet.

Cursing it under my breath, I crouched to get it, almost falling to the floor as Phil's next words sunk in:

"Renee wasn't feeling well earlier, so I insisted we come to the hospital. Nothing much really, she didn't even faint or anything. It was just a funny feeling in her chest and left shoulder. I had to drag her out of the house; she kept insisting she was fine."

My mind reeled.

"How is she now? Where is she?" I asked, trying really hard not to freak out.

"They've admitted her to run some tests."

Not good.

If it really was just a few tests, they could have cared for her as an outpatient.

"What did the attending say?" I probed, trying to access how much Phil knew and whether or not he was hiding anything from me.

"Not a whole lot," Phil admitted, his tone light and carefree as always. "Just that it might be nothing, but, just in case, they want her to stay for the night."

My blood ran cold.

The doctor wouldn't have mentioned anything of the sort if he wasn't preparing him for the possibility of Renee staying there for some time.

And it was pretty obvious that my stepfather was being optimistic and naïve about the whole thing.

"What tests did he order?" I asked, trying to keep it light and conversational. Now I was the one trying not to upset him.

"I think a blood panel, an ECG and an eco-something," he got out, slowly, as he tried to remember the terms. "I'm sure you'd know better than me, maybe you should call her doctor."

"Sure, sure," I agreed, my heart thumping in my chest as I sat on my desk and sought the first piece of paper I could put my hands on. "I think I'll do just that. Do you know his name?"

I wrote it down furiously and listened as he described the tedious waiting period and wondered out loud about just how long it would take until he could take Renee back home.

I couldn't answer him.

"Want me to tell her anything, when they let me see her?" he asked.

I thought for a couple of seconds.

"Tell her…" I hesitated. I didn't know how to put it in a way that wouldn't alert him. "Tell her I'll be calling to check on her, and I'll be in contact with her doctor."

_Tell her I love her. Tell her I wished I was there._

"Will do, Bella. Take care, and don't worry too much, I'm sure this is nothing."

I had to sigh. I couldn't help it. Was he really treating me like a kid?

"I won't. Call me if there's any news, okay?"

After he assured me he would, we said our goodbyes and hung up.

That day, I did something I thought I'd never do.

I used Jones' passwords – which I'd memorized, by then - to get into the information databases and do my own unauthorized research.

Let's just say people can get arrested for that.

I didn't actually access medical records – even if I was really, really tempted to check Renee's – but cross-checked the information I had to try and find out what was wrong with my mother.

I used information about drug tests, subject studies, hospital stats, it didn't matter.

I had a theory, but I needed to be sure.

I didn't know enough to come to a definite conclusion, and I must have left several messages before Dr. Seward finally returned my calls, only to say, in his most impersonal tone, that the tests weren't back yet.

He had the nerve to tell me to _calm down_.

I wasn't the least bit impressed of fazed by his patronizing tone. I was used to it – a lot of my teachers used that same registry to address whomever – but it sickened me all the same.

Instead of calling him on it, or demanding anything of him, I was impeccably polite and _requested _that all of my mother's information be faxed to me – in other words, the Dartmouth Pathology Department - as soon as it was available. And if he had a problem with that, he could check with my stepdad.

That had Dr. Seward stuttering.

An hour later, I swung by the office to check the fax machine and, sure enough, it was all there.

I spent the whole afternoon going through the history and results, picking apart the data.

I cursed myself for bring a freshman, and used the databases and books to aid me.

Still, the ECG and echocardiogram reports were pretty straightforward. When I finally got to those, my suspicions were confirmed.

The adrenaline that had led me to break several laws seemed to leave my system all at once, and I sunk in my chair, feeling tired, shriveled and defeated.

I was afraid, but not for myself.

There was nothing I could do about it. That was the scariest part.

Suddenly, I regretted coming to New Hampshire; I really wished I was closer.

I would never forgive myself for not being there.

Alice interrupted my musings, as her hand came to rest on my shoulder. I'd been too wrapped up to notice her entering the room.

"Hey," I greeted, in a small voice.

"Hi," she greeted back, in the same tone, observing me. She was way too perceptive to believe everything was alright, but she decided to skirt the issue: "Bringing work home?"

I shook my head no, and my best friend squinted, trying to make out what it was about.

"This… This is Renee's," she breathed, picking up on it.

But, besides that, it could have been Chinese, for all she understood.

Feeling as if I was being ripped apart, I finally explained:

"That's her hospital chart," I started, and her worried eyes darted to mine. "I think my mother had a heart attack."

Al, too, sunk to the arm of the chair, by my side, in the dim room, and we shared the silence that followed my hollow voice.

And if I believed in any deity, I would have prayed.

We just stayed there, in comfortable, albeit pained silence, until I turned off the laptop and rubbed my tired eyes. Only then did my little friend get up – coming back shortly after with the "emergencies only" tub of ice-cream and two spoons.

The event definitely qualified as an emergency.

We saw silly DVD's and didn't talk about it, because it wouldn't help. And I still didn't know enough.

I fiddled with my cell-phone the whole time, in hopes of hearing from Phil, but the small device mocked me, still and unresponsive.

No news.

The call came well into the night, waking me up from a fitful sleep.

Phil was panicked and sounded just about ready to cry, which was really heart wrenching and awkward all at once. I tried my best to calm him down, and told him what I knew, focusing on the practical issues.

We needed to wait. Right now, they were just trying to get Renee stable before further evaluation. She'd been given a mild sedative to let her body rest and restore itself.

Best possible outcome, she'd be home in two days.

I didn't tell him that wasn't to be expected – he wouldn't benefit from having to take in that much information all at once. I just told him to go home, take a shower and try to get some sleep, as he needed his strength.

I, however, didn't sleep after hanging up, but went online and bought myself a plane ticket instead. The soonest I could get there would be in two days, which made me want to break something in anger, but driving there would take much longer, so I was stuck with it.

Even while trying my best to be quiet, I still woke Alice up, and she called Jasper – sending him in a quest for caffeinated goods.

When he did arrive – a steaming cappuccino with my name on it in one hand -, and I told him what was wrong, he seemed to join our silent pact just perfectly.

I just stirred the drink, trying to ignore the memories stirring inside, beating myself up over the fact that, when I first realized what had happened to my mother and what we'd have to deal with, as a broken family, – I didn't think to call Alice or Jasper.

_Edward_ was the first one on my mind.

"I thought your mother was young," Jas remarked, incredulity written all over his voice.

"She's forty-one, but it doesn't really matter. It can happen to anyone," I stated, in my best clinical voice. "Her high cholesterol levels certainly didn't help. It runs in the family."

My blond friend cast Alice a glance, and I could read so much into it, it blew me away.

He wouldn't know what to do if it was her. She was already such a big part of his life, even just as friends. He'd be content to know she was healthy and happy, and with that alone.

But I knew they could be more.

The rift between them pained me more than ever, but right then there were other pressing issues. I swore to myself I would do something about it, and soon.

"Well, it doesn't matter," Al snapped, a whirlwind of black hair and pink bathrobe. "Because Renee is a tough cookie, strong and able. And she's got Bella," she smiled, all cheery and bright, and I gulped.

Right. The family doctor-to-be.

That made me see things in another perspective. Truth is, Phil had been more than glad to get me chasing the information – he _expected_ it from me.

I shrugged it off just as quickly. I was good with responsibility, and it wasn't like I was going to medicate my own mother. I was just going to watch out to see if she was being properly looked after, help in any way I could and just be there for her.

Alice started packing my bag, and I didn't even have to warn her about keeping it light and sensible. That was one fashion battle I didn't have to endure.

I concentrated in getting everything else ready – giving notice at the Department and talking with Jones. My boss and teacher assured me they'd be fine without me and encouraged me to take as much time as I needed, even offering to put in a good word for me if there were any pending papers.

Her kindness and best wishes lit the guilt for what I'd done, but I wasn't sorry. I would have done it again without as much as blinking.

My friends, however, both had an important paper to deliver. They tried to pull some crap about being perfectly able to do it in the laptop on the plane, or in some waiting room at the hospital, but I completely refused to let them come with me.

They'd be there for me, no matter what, one phone call away, and physically, the moment I got back. I knew that, and it was all that mattered. They were a part of my family too, and I wanted to see them succeed – especially Alice, who still had to prove herself, after the stunts she had pulled with the teachers in the beginning of the semester.

Having everything set, I thought I'd occupy my time in the library – trying to find out a little more about the episode and the possible outcomes. My knowledge on the subject was, at best, superficial.

Renee might need a nurse to help around the house for a while; I wondered if the insurance would cover it, and made a mental note to discuss it with Phil later.

As I was reading, my phone started ringing – and more than a dozen pairs of angry eyes turned to me. I ignored them, as I couldn't risk missing a call.

"Dr. Seward, what news do you have for me?" I answered, stepping out to the library's stairs.

"Good afternoon, Miss Swan. I'm afraid the second round of tests has uncovered the full extent of the injuries your mother suffered during her episode."

"How serious is it?" I asked, trying to get him to come clear.

Which he did. I felt myself going numb as the words rang through the speaker, a new panic rising within me.

"She needs surgery, then?" I croaked out.

"Yes, without a doubt. She is still feeble, so we'll have to wait a few days, but as soon as possible we'll get her in the schedule."

"Thank you," I answered, simply, not knowing what else to say. "I'll arrive in Phoenix the day after tomorrow; do you think I'll be in time to see her… before…?"

"Yes, I think so. The strain she's been through is our greatest enemy right now."

I thanked him again, trying my best not to sink on those steps and cry.

I refused to. I had an important task on my hands.

Going back inside, I started researching about the procedure my mother needed, and then reminded myself to check the scientific articles databases for any new information.

One name kept popping up as a reference.

My stomach growled, loudly, a couple of hours past dinner time, and I realized I should be going. Grabbing the pile of articles I still wanted to scan through, I managed to get to the cafeteria in time for a soup and headed back to my room, really tired and overwhelmingly sad.

I sat back in bed, and kept reading, even if the sheer fatigue was making my vision blurry.

And that same name kept being mentioned, to the point where it was no longer possible to ignore.

Sinking in sleep as I listened to Alice's even breaths beside me, I made a decision.

The next morning I woke up, bothered and uncomfortable. As the events of the previous days came to me, I groaned – partly because I hadn't changed into pajamas and my jeans were no good to sleep in.

After a quick shower and brushing my teeth, I hurried out of the room, even if I felt like going back to bed for half a day.

My steps were brisk, moved by sheer intent, but I was extremely conflicted.

I didn't want to do it. I could never have imagined myself doing it. And if it had been any other situation, I wouldn't.

But I knew I had to.

I was going to bite the proverbial bullet. I would do it for Renee, even if that meant swallowing my dignity as well.

As I got to my destination, I frowned up to the oak door. It seemed to stand before me every single time.

I knocked, ignoring, once more, the fact I had the key, but needed to knock again, as it wasn't answered.

I started to worry that he wasn't there. I started to really worry about him being there, but not alone – and my mind conjured the image of the strawberry blonde girl.

I had to mentally nail my feet to the ground to keep myself from running away after that thought.

Finally, the door was opened, and I didn't say anything, merely stepping inside, thinking I'd earned the right to make myself at home.

I risked a glance at the bed – tousled, but empty – and allowed myself a breath of relief.

Edward was wearing jeans and one of the t-shirts he slept with – and I wondered if the bed was still warm. Shaking myself out of it, I looked at his face for the first time.

Hope and surprise written all over it.

I squashed the sheer need to crumble before him, and tell him of all my fears. To feel his arms around me.

"I'm sorry it's so early," I started, my voice raspy, as I tried to create a lighter atmosphere.

"It's okay," he answered, simply.

This was different from that morning before our final. More private, more personal. Harder.

"My mother had a heart attack, Edward," I sobbed, and, to my own eternal shame, started crying. "It was extremely acute, affected one of the main cardiac arteries. Part of the heart muscle tissue has suffered necrosis from being deprived of oxygen for so long, so it doesn't work as well as it should. She needs surgery, and I was researching. Your father's name kept coming up, and I'm sorry I'm even here, and I know I have no right to ask this of you…" I ranted, the words gushing out of me.

"Bella," Edward interrupted, placing his hand on my shoulder and calming me at once. "I'll call Carlisle. I'm sure he'll be happy to help."

I merely nodded, trying to keep more tears at bay, and watched as Edward recovered his phone from his nightstand and dialed.

His head snapped up to me as he talked, probably sensing my stare, and it was easier.

The whole thing was easier because I'd been able to share it with him.

My own proverbial bullet might as well been made of sugar.


	37. Loose Ends

**Hey, everyone! I'm sorry about the long time it took me to write this, but it was honestly hard.**

**Not because it didn't flow out of me, not because it was hard to get my ideas straight, but because this has lived in my mind for so, so long, it was a bit difficult and a bit awkward to get it down on paper. Sorry for it being huge; I argued myself endlessly about where to cut it.**

**Oh, and the reference! Nobody got it, but that's okay. Stoker's **_**Dracula **_**is an old, old book. Dr. Seward – the name I used for Renee's physician – was one of the lead characters and partial narrator.**

**Enjoy the chapter! Three more to go… Oh boy.**

_**Soundtrack **_**(the biggest yet)**_**: Coldplay – Prospekt's March; Goo Goo Dolls – Iris; Jason Mraz – If It Kills Me; Jason Mraz – Beautiful Mess; Embrace – Ashes; Coldplay – 42; Coldplay – Glass of Water; Jason Mraz – Mr. Curiosity**_

I'd been in constant contact with Phil for the entire time before my trip, so I knew all about my mother's schedule and progress – or lack thereof. They kept her so doped up, they'd barely had any time together, and when they did, Phil protested against the whole apparatus they enforced. Still, this was a legitimate request – as any infection would weaken my mother and delay the surgery she needed.

I tried to be as well updated with her doctor, but he was an extremely busy man who'd learned to ignore me as much as possible.

I breathed deeply, my diaphragm and sides hurting due to the intense workout I'd squeezed in between research at the library.

It felt like I was forgetting something, but I knew I hadn't.

I checked my watch. Half an hour before the cab showed up to take me to the airport.

There wasn't much time, so I would just have to wait until I got back.

_Screw that._

Getting up and startling Alice, I assured her I was only getting some snacks for the trip, and turned to leave before she could catch my lie, written all over my face, for sure.

Running and battling with and against my protesting muscles, I got to the dorm in record time, banging on the door like some lunatic with a plane to catch in less than two hours.

A young man with jet black hair, as outstandingly fake as the carefully drawn shadows under his eyes and not so carefully applied black eyeliner, opened the door.

I took an instinctive step back.

Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against Goths; the young man just happened to be holding a CD player and ear buds in one hand, glaring at me like I'd just killed his firstborn.

"What do you want?" he spat, loudly.

"I'd like to speak with your roommate," I answered, my voice dry and unwavering. Usually, I wouldn't had been so harsh, asking nicely and introducing myself, but I was under enough stress. The guy was getting on my nerves.

He just stepped aside, and sweet, comforting, naturally blond Jasper occupied his place by the door. I heard the sound of screeching furniture and assumed the creature had returned to its lair.

My eyebrows shot up.

"Sorry about that," Jasper greeted.

"I get it why you never offered to show your room," I rasped back, but cut that train of thought short. "My cab will be waiting for me in about twenty minutes, I really need to hurry."

"Sure, so you… need anything?" my friend asked, confused. We'd already said goodbye early that morning.

"I need you to promise you'll talk to Alice while I'm gone."

He deadpanned, and quickly answered:

"I'll talk to her for sure, but is there anything specific you want me to tell her?"

"I have no time for you to be evasive," I warned. "You know damn well what I mean, Whitlock."

I never cussed in front of him, not even a little, so that made him take a step back, conversation wise.

"You know that's not that simple."

I did. I also knew it was time to make it uncomplicated. I told him so.

His body stiffened as he answered, closing the door and stepping out to the corridor:

"I think it's probably for the best to leave things as they are."

I could have kicked him in the family jewels.

"Whitlock, what can you possibly be thinking?"

"I'm damaged, Bella," Jasper stated, his eyes unfocused and downcast. "She deserves better than damaged, and even if she didn't, even if she understood, in time… She'd want to change me. To turn me into something different, to somehow heal my wounds. But they're not wounds anymore, they're scars."

I understood what he was saying. It was no longer possible to fix – it was all a part of him now.

"You're wrong," I replied, harshly. "Alice isn't like that. She influences those around her, sure, but not by force, just merely by being… her. She wants you for you, for the man you are now, and that comes with its scars. And about her deserving better?" I scoffed then, mumbling a few expletives under my breath. "Your past has nothing to do with it. I know I would have taken scarred over traitorous any day, Jas, and it's not like any of us dropped from heaven. We've all screwed up, one way or another. Just… move past it. It's not worth it; life is too short for hesitance. You're a good thing in her life. You're both good for each other, so just go with it."

My speech wasn't sweet, bright or elegant. It was a simple statement of the truth he seemed to have lacked the clarity to see for himself.

I could see the shock it caused him, and that was a good thing. He needed a nice push.

I was officially done with being selfish and staring at my own toes, wallowing in my pain. Things would change. It was too late to fix myself, but I could still be a positive force in life.

My mother's sudden heart attack made me put things in perspective.

Theories were worthless in life, so I was abandoning mine. I was abandoning the guidelines I sought comfort from, because I now perceived them for what they were.

They constricted more than they helped. I wanted no more to fail in life than anyone else, but that's a risk you take no matter what.

The risk with not taking risks is not living at all. That was greater by far.

"I promise," Jasper finally answered, a small smile pulling at his lips, nervousness mixed in with excitement, doubt still swimming in his eyes. "Now go, or you'll miss your flight."

Three hours later, I came to a conclusion.

I liked flying.

The experience was so impersonal, so utterly devoid of any mark of singularity, it could actually be enjoyable.

You weren't yourself, but another name on the passenger list or, worse, the number of your seat and the class you were flying in. The food you were served in those little sterile individual containers was exactly the same they gave out to anyone.

As soon as you were out of the plane, you were on your way, among hundreds of people you never met and would never meet. But, for a little while, you shared a destination, and it was certainly nice to wonder about the lives yours brushed up against, not quite making it in the history. It was interesting to think of all the different destinies yours crossed with.

Inside a plane, the most peculiar conversations were held. Worlds that didn't touch seemed of little importance inside a metal bird flying much faster than what any grandmother would deem safe.

I knew this, because I could hear the conversation being held directly behind me. The young man was – if he'd spoken the truth – a record producer, and the older woman simply presented herself as "a dedicated housewife, with two beautiful granddaughters".

I drowned out their voices, bending my neck and resting my head, pursuing sleep that, I knew, would elude me.

Edward fidgeted beside me, his long legs awkwardly bent in the narrow space.

It wasn't my fault he was flying coach – he could've flown first class. He'd bought the seat next to mine, I hadn't asked him to do so.

I hadn't even asked him to come.

The same way I hadn't asked for Carlisle to fly to Phoenix. I'd only asked for an opinion – maybe a reference to a good surgeon. Instead, my ex-boyfriend's father was flying across the country to help save my mother's life. And said ex-boyfriend was seated next to me on the plane.

This was just an impossible situation altogether.

One can only imagine – but never quite grasp – my surprise when I was taking my bag out to the cab and saw Edward there, his own bag in hand, a look on his face that allowed for no discussion.

What could I have said? That he shouldn't go meet his father?

I had no bearing on his decisions.

But they intrigued me nonetheless.

For a man who hadn't lifted his left pinky in an attempt to fight for me, he'd shown commitment in helping my mother – which, I assumed, derived from the guilt he felt, or simple human kindness.

I was thankful for his actions, whichever the motivation behind them, and, most of all, I was much too tired to fight it. I had bigger problems to handle.

My mind drifted and I clutched my dead cell phone, the trip stretching on impossibly as I longed for a call from Phil. The thought of anything happening as I was flying had been nagging me.

How did people do this, prior to the phone era? I guess that explains a lot of what we now consider to be over-dramatics.

I shut my eyes again, knowing they'd be open soon enough, fighting the lack of comfort.

I felt a tug on my shirt sleeve, so soft I wasn't sure I'd felt it.

I opened my eyes – as I predicted – and saw Edward staring back at me, a small offering on his palm.

His mp3 player.

I took it, noticing he'd already selected the song, and put on the ear buds with a quiet thank you.

Goo Goo Doll's _Iris_ rang through them, and I spared the small device a closer look. It wasn't just a playlist, but the playlist I'd set up for him with a lot of my favorites. I instantly remembered him being impressed by some, mocking some, and his look of wonder as he listened to the remaining – the ones he didn't know – with a careful attitude of cynic suspicion.

I remembered him singing Maxïmo Park's _Russian Literature_ on the top of his lungs, his fingers furiously attacking the piano keys, making me collapse in laughter.

I wanted to ask why those songs were still there, but decided against it. Truth is, I hadn't heard to a lot of music after the breakup.

We just stared at each other for a couple of seconds before looking away.

I had to wonder if it would ever get any easier.

After a couple of hours, the songs I knew so well became just background to my thoughts, completely unable to drown them, and I knew I had to return the small device.

"Do you have a place to stay?" I managed, my first question about this trip.

"My father got us both rooms in a hotel," Edward answered.

I nodded, focusing in the grey striations of the seating upholstery in front of me. No need to extend the courtesy of a guest room, then.

This was just stupid.

I was seating next to him, the man I'd touched so intimately, and by whom I was touched in the same way, and we couldn't even maintain a conversation.

"What are you blaming yourself for?"

My head shot up with his sudden remark and I almost told him to mind his own business.

He tilted his head to the side, and one of my heartbeats was delayed. It was a mannerism I hadn't even remembered until just then.

"I'm not blaming myself for anything, I'm remembering."

It was the honest truth.

"Tell me about it?"

I spared him an incredulous glare from the corner of my eye.

"It would make things easier if you agreed to be friends with me."

This was it.

I was right; he was cashing in on his deeds to assure I forgave him. The angelic bastard.

I wanted to forgive him, but I couldn't. His recent actions spoke so much in his favor, but there was still so much resentment.

But how could I deny it, after all he'd done?

"I'll try."

That was honestly the best I could do. I never claimed to be perfect.

"Tell me about it."

I did.

"I just can't stop thinking about my mother. Of course I'm worried about the surgery, but not just. I keep thinking about the past, the memories I held on to. You know, Renee was never the most… stable individual. As an agent, she helped some players right to the top. Sometimes, she'd make a big commission and throw her employers amazing parties. You know what I was thinking, for the duration of those parties?"

The question was rhetorical, so the answer never came.

"I was worried about our bills getting payed on time," I admitted. "Renee would spend it all in big blowouts, and get me things I didn't really wanted, get herself things she never used, and promise we'd go abroad for some time, even if it meant skipping school. Just her and me. We never went abroad, though, and I had to keep some money stashed away for groceries. I was the one insisting on the health insurance Renee now has, and sometime before high school I just assumed the responsibility of making sure we stayed afloat. I never held it against her, because it was just who she was – but sometime along the line I realized just how screwed up it was for a fourteen-year old to worry about bills getting payed on time."

Silence ensued.

"You're right, that is screwed up."

Edward had never known this much about my time prior to living with Charlie; I just wasn't afraid to show him the ugliness anymore.

"I shouldn't be thinking about this right now, but I am. Because this is what I've come to think of when it comes to Renee. I can't filter it. I'm just so afraid I won't have the time to change it, to work on this. I just want more time."

My speech was getting disconnected, so I just stopped speaking and asked the stewardess for a cup of black coffee.

The landing and retrieval of our bags went smoothly, and, after dropping off Edward in a well known luxury hotel, I headed to my old house.

It was still there, but in dire need of some paint and care. The hinges of the front door were stiff, and I automatically thought of getting some oil for them.

I checked the multi-colored living room, which had suffered yet another semi-makeover: one of the walls was painted red, while the others remained orange. Typical Renee.

I checked the kitchen, and gasped in horror. Dishes pilled everywhere, and the trash needed to be taken out. Phil's doing for sure; my mother had always been a neat freak.

Finally, I reached my old bedroom, knowing it would still be untouched.

Ever since I went to Forks, I'd expected my fickle, creative mother to do something with it – maybe a yoga/sowing/storage room, but she never did.

My old posters were still hanging on the wall, and by now they'd earn respect for the sheer age.

My bed wasn't made, but someone – probably Phil, in an effort to make me feel more at home – had left clean, mismatched sheets on top of it.

My old desk was still there, topped by a fake Tiffany lamp bought in a garage sale. I'd always loved that thing.

As soon as I dropped my bag, I busied myself with washing away the wrinkles from the trip and changed into something lighter. Wearing short sleeves in February seemed just plain odd, but Phoenix was dry and warm all year round – a climate I was no longer used to.

The hospital needs not to be described. It's like any hospital: climate controlled (thankfully), white and sterile.

Phil greeted me and urged me inside; it was late afternoon, but Renee was awake. She'd been expecting me before going to sleep, according to him.

I stepped inside her room, and took a long look at my mother, taking the blow of all the tubes inserted in her body.

I hesitated.

Wasn't it sad that I didn't even know how to greet my own mother? I hadn't called her Mom in years, it had always been Renee, but I couldn't make myself say it this time.

It didn't sound right, not even in my own mind. It didn't come naturally, so I didn't do it.

"It's good to see you," I finally said, taking in account my tone of voice in the hospital bedroom, but avoiding the whisper that, without a doubt, would unsettle someone who needed no stress.

"Bella, honey," Renee answered, taking me in with a smile. "I'm glad you're here, thank you for coming." Did she really believe I wouldn't? I felt a mighty stab of guilt at that thought, and had to fight back a grimace. "Your hair is shorter," she commented, after a couple of seconds.

Her observation threw me off. The last time we'd seen each other had been over the summer; I'd gotten my hair cut in the meanwhile, but it had started to grow back.

A memory assaulted me, of standing by the cafeteria doors and being told I was beautiful. I shook it off.

"I managed to get an amazing surgeon to work on your case," I cut in, desperately trying to shift the subject into something I was slightly more familiar with. "His name is Dr. Carlisle Cullen. He's trying to get special privileges so he can do your surgery himself."

My words seemed to affect her little.

She didn't seem afraid, and that struck me as odd.

I was still being appraised, but not in a critical way; it was as if I was being memorized.

As if she was truly _seeing _me.

"You've must have worked very hard to make that happen, Bella. Thank you."

Again, I was left in unsteady ground, not knowing what to reply. I wasn't good at this – I'd never been good at this – and I didn't want to say the words.

I didn't want to tell her she meant the world to me and I would do anything for her, even if absolutely true. There were things in our past that had never been resolved, but, in that moment, they mattered nothing to me. Maybe it had all stopped mattering a lot time ago.

But those issues would make my words sound less genuine. I wanted my mother to know I wasn't a hypocrite.

So I told her the truth.

"I just did the research. It wasn't hard, I actually do it all the time in my job for the Department, so don't worry. And I know Dr. Cullen's son from Dartmouth," _in the biblical sense no less_, my sarcastic mind helpfully supplied at the worst possible moment. "He's the one who got his father to come down to Arizona to see you."

She smiled at me, knowingly, as if I was hiding something in such an obvious way. Truly, it was hard to imagine a colleague going through all that trouble for someone other than, at the very least, a close friend.

"How has Dartmouth been? Have you been enjoying it, and your new job?"

It seemed her mind wanted to stray as far away from the surgery as possible, so I gave in. Sitting on the mattress by her waist, I talked about school, Al and Jasper, leaving aside the fact that I had been in an intense, passionate relationship with Dr. Cullen's son.

Who revealed himself to be a backstabbing, unreliable idiot.

An image that both didn't abide well for the family in general and didn't really agree with the man he'd proven himself to be, lately.

After what seemed like too short of a visit, a nurse came to politely expel me, and I went back to worrying, sitting in the small waiting room with Phil.

Shortly after, a doctor came in, Edward walking behind him. I already knew who he was, of course, but the view stunned me all the same.

The blond man extended his hand to me, and my ex-boyfriend made the introductions.

"Dad, this is Bella Swan and Phil Dwayne." Handshakes ensued. "This is my father, Carlisle Cullen."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Cullen," I got in, as Phil seemed quite stunned by the fact that these two men were related.

"Please, it's Carlisle. It's certainly nice to finally meet you, after all I've heard of you, but I certainly hoped for better circumstances. Would you mind terribly if I called you Bella?"

I shook my head no, smiling earnestly in response to the charismatic man, and sat back down, mimicking both Cullens.

My stepfather was still stunned speechless.

Yes, this was just an impossible situation altogether.


	38. Guilt and Forgiveness

**Hey everyone! This will probably earn me some varied critiques… Which is always nice!**

**Another reference in this chapter – this time, a much more recent book. I finished it two days ago, and fell in love with it.**

**Two more to go!...**

**Soundtrack: James Morrison – Please Don't Stop The Rain**

The talk with Carlisle was mostly informative; we got Phil up to speed, and I was told about the procedure my mother needed.

Actually, he didn't tell me _about_ it, not like I wanted, anyway. In a different environment – if it was just me, Edward and the good doctor - I might have been able to ask the questions I wanted answered, but the specifics of the surgery would freak Phil out.

So we kept it PG.

It annoyed me, but, that night, there was nothing we could do. Dr. Seward seemed hurt, male pride bruised, as Carlisle received special treatment – not only among the other , but also from the nurses. The reason for the later was another entirely, though. I got the feeling he was pulling every card in the deck to do the surgery, and that made me admire him that much more.

Which made me look at Edward from a different stand point, as well. I no longer cared about the why – because he'd done it. That said something about him, something that nothing could erase. In my time of trouble, he was there, and went above and beyond.

The resentment hid away in my spine, swishing like a snake's body, heavy and forge-hot, the scales digging painfully into my flesh. But hidden. Out of my psyche, out of my heart. Present, but just so. Made me believe I could conquer it.

But that discovery was pushed aside by the sheer nerves. I was starting to freak at the possibility of Carlisle not getting the special privileges. Of him getting it, but some idiot – maybe even Dr. Bruised Ego – messing it up. Of him getting it, no one messing it up, but it still going wrong.

I was at Phoenix, and everything was out of my hands. Nothing left for me to do but wait.

The surgery was happening, Carlisle or no Carlisle.

My mother could die on the table.

…

My train of thought stopped there. Going beyond the _could_ wasn't acceptable.

I went back to the house, tired but wired, and washed the pile of greasy dishes, did the laundry, and hid away in my old room, too worn out to sleep. My eyes closed for a couple of hours, eventually – but I was at the hospital by seven, waiting for Carlisle, who'd told me he'd be there around that time.

He gave me the good news as we walked the corridors side by side: special privileges acquired.

I was left on unsteady ground as the doctor threw me a fast ball:

"I want to do it today."

_Today?_

"Why?" I asked, my voice hoarse to my own ears.

"She's stable enough to proceed, I'm confident of that. It's a delicate balance, because moving too soon can decrease our chances, but delaying it too much gives room for different mess-ups – infection or another episode. I really think we should move."

_No. Please. I need more time, just in case._

"Alright. I trust your judgment, of course. Is there anything…" I cleared my throat, willing my panic away. "… anything I can do to help?"

"I'm quite sure we have everything we need," Carlisle answered, in his calming voice. I searched his hazel eyes for certainty, and found the depthless comfort of empathy.

Damn it, I missed my friends. I wasn't even prepared to admit to whom I _really_ missed.

"You're taking the skin grafts approach? Cutting away the necrotic tissue and replacing it?" I spoke, medical jargon and Dartmouth – my big shining, crumbling glass shield.

"Yes… But I wanted to talk to you about something else," he steered, and we entered the small, vacant waiting room near my mother's room. "Tell me about your childhood."

I deadpanned.

"Excuse me, what?"

If you were asked that same question by a man who was operating on your mother in a matter of yours, you'd say the same thing. The man was supposed to be focusing on red cell counts, on her vitals, on the darn sterilized equipment, anything other than…

"Of course, you don't need to; I just find the medical charts quite lacking on anything personal, so I always try to pick up on something with the patient's family."

I gulped. I couldn't repeat him what I told his son, there was no point to it. But there were other memories I could tell him about.

"I see. Well, my mother came to Phoenix when I was a baby…" I started, and remembered some of the things she'd told me, right to the point when some of the stories I could actually remember.

Like the time we ate lobster for a month because, as a prank, I drowned the poor, unsuspecting animals by sticking spitballs in the air pump. The restaurant owner seemed just about to lose his mind, but Renee managed to calm him down, walking out of there with the biggest doggy bag anyone has ever seen.

Or the job my mother lost because she decided to stay home and watch me, convinced I had the small pocks. Turns out, it was just a rash, but she painted little red dots all over her face in solidarity and we spent two days in bed.

There was so much… So much of my mother. So much I didn't remember in my everyday life, not even when I thought of her. Looking at it then, it became so unclear to me as to why this wasn't what I remembered. Was the good really that easy to overlook, versus the bad?

I knew it wasn't. I was just prone to do so.

Carlisle listened on, amused, sometimes getting in a few stories about Esme and Edward as a baby as well. It made me laugh, as sad as it made me feel. All we were lacking were the photo albums and the fireplace.

It made me feel hollow, all of a sudden – the lack of turning albums by the fireplace in my life. The human warmth, the stories that I wouldn't tell.

Edward walked in, hair and grey button up shirt askew.

"I'm sorry, is this a bad time?" he asked, seeing as I was teary-eyed. I could almost swear I could say the same thing of the blond doctor.

"No, son, it's fine," Carlisle said, and stood up.

I was left in awe to see that there was no shield. No coat he put on, no mask. He was exactly the same man as he was as he was telling me about his baby boy, his wife. He didn't step onto a different role.

How's that even possible?

Suddenly, I was alarmed. How could he remain as distant as he should be – now that he knew how Renee had gotten that little scar on her brow? He was much too close for that, after the hours-long talk.

"Bella, do you want to grab some breakfast?" Edward cut in, and I was left battling myself about it, mouth open like a gargoyle.

I should bring it up, shouldn't I?

What kind of idiot was I? First, I'd gotten the man to fly all the way from Chicago – a pioneer in the field – and then dismiss him? That wouldn't just be cruel, but plain stupid.

Not only that, but he mentioned this wasn't the first time he sought information of the kind about his patients. He was good. I trusted his methods.

As illogical as they seemed to be.

"Sure," I answered, a second later.

We stepped out to the corridor and Carlisle hurried out, brisk and alive, probably trying to get an available operating room and able staff. At least, I hoped to God – me, the woman of Science – they were.

"Where's Phil?" Edward tried, small talk as a means of distraction. I let him.

"He just went by the restaurant to deal with anything that might come up while he's gone. I should text him, let him know it's today."

I got my cell-phone and started working on said as we descended, by elevator, to the cafeteria. I was famished, but very much doubted the food there would hold any appeal to me.

As I hit send, Edward's teetering voice came floating to me:

"Can I be there?"

My head snapped up and I searched his eyes – the lush green startling me, as always. I wanted to know if he meant it.

"You want to be in the waiting room with me? Why?"

Hurt flashed all over his face and through his eyes like a lightening. If I hadn't known him, I'd be scared – only I did.

I believed that once again, at least.

"I know you think I don't care… But that couldn't be the furthest away from the truth."

His words chilled me. He wasn't cold, but tender. Fiery, crackling tenderness.

My traitorous heart warmed in response – and spoke the answer before I could edit it.

"I'd like that."

We talked no more, and shared our breakfast in silence, only that much room for words between us. Nothing mended the past.

The pages were written. We were just adding fresh ink to the new ones.

I waited for my mother to wake up, and sat by her waist once again, delaying her dose of painkillers as much as possible. I needed her to be aware.

I told her I loved her. Speaking from the heart, battling my Swan genes with frightening emotion.

Renee told me she was proud of me.

I shouldn't cry around her, but I did then.

Because a part of me always believed that she viewed me as a mistake. A product of a foolish teen romance, a short, bitter ending marriage. The living, breathing proof of her mistakes.

I wasn't. To Renee, to my mother, I was her girl – and she saw only the beauty in me. All the accomplishments I collected that I believed overlook were actually treasured.

We were both grinning tear-stained smiles by the time the nurses came to prep her for surgery.

No matter what, I knew things between the two of us would never be the same.

Three hours later, in the waiting room, I walked to soda machine, not particularly craving any type of beverage, but to appease my need to move. That way, it didn't look as if I was pacing.

I carefully projected the image of a girl weighing down the advantages and disadvantages of regular versus diet coke while I tried really hard not to think about the risks that came with the procedure my mother was undergoing.

_Infection, stroke, respiratory arrest, immune response to the tissue grafts, embolism, hemorrhage…_

My stomach churned and I went back to sitting. We – as in me, Edward and Phil - weren't the only waiting; an older couple was there, and a young, distraught male.

So I busied myself with observing them for a few minutes.

The elderly couple was speaking in hushed voices of matters of no consequence. You had the feeling that this conversation had been unraveling for many years; it was heartbreakingly beautiful to watch as the man enveloped his wife's hands in his own and set her mind at ease.

He was assuring her that her begonias would be fine without water for a few days. I was quite positive neither of them was interested in flowers.

The male, seemingly about thirty years old, was in a very different state of mind. His skin was almost greenish and had a sheen of sweat to it, what appeared to be permanent creases on his forehead.

But his eyes were downright scary, darting around the room for something to lock on. He was the picture of a man about to break.

I looked up to the clock to see the seconds lurch away, ignoring the TV set to mute. I could feel Edward's presence beside me, and it was reassuring. I didn't need or desire to talk.

He knew. And even though a lot had gone wrong between us, that skill never ceased to impress me.

Seeing the nervous people around me, coping in their own way, led to an epiphany of sorts. A big part of their fears, of their issues, was the fact that they didn't know.

The unknown is always what you fear the most.

But I, however, was privileged; I knew exactly what was happening. I had researched hundreds of pages worth of material about the surgery, words I could recite in my sleep.

And so, darting my eyes back to the round clock, I estimated how long ago the surgery had started; by then, they had probably done the incision, sawed through the sternum, and…

I sucked a breath and held it, strangling a gasp. My eyes prickled with tears and my own chest hurt as it was being split in half, not my mother's.

That train of thought had been a mistake.

I couldn't think of it. I couldn't picture the procedure because it was _my mother_ on the table. And it wasn't skin, muscle, it was _her_. It hurt to even think.

The surgery no longer seemed like a justified act, a necessity. It felt like a barbaric act. They were cutting her, hurting her.

I let out the air in my lungs and took a big breath, steadying myself.

"Distract me," I pleaded, slightly turning in Edward's direction. I could feel his gaze, and my words made concern role off of him in waves. For a second, I thought my request had stunned him into silence.

"What's your favorite painter?"

His quiet voice broke its way to me, and I made sense of the unexpected question. After a couple of seconds, I leaned back in my chair and gave an honest answer.

"I have a soft spot for Monet… but definitely Renoir."

"Do you like Impressionist art?" he pressed, and I shook my head.

"Yes, but that's not the only reason. I also love the fact that he portrayed real women, but beautiful nonetheless. Even the nudes."

Our conversation was quiet, but went on, changing topics from time to time. As Phil observed, rising his eyes from the sports papers every so often, Edward did, in fact, succeed in distracting me.

Taking advantage of the situation, I took the first good look at him in over a month.

He seemed tired, worn; but it didn't look as if it had been the trip, more like it was something dragging on for quite some time. Dark, marked circles over his cheek, and an expression of defeat, of helplessness, tainting his beauty.

And I could tell he'd changed too. The light in his eyes was missing, much too muted; an echo of what it had once been.

I stopped scrutinizing him, because it hurt. Because, to some point, I preferred believing that I had been the only one scarred.

It made it easier not to feel for him. Not to allow myself to feel for him.

Or maybe to just not acknowledge those feelings.

There were little marks during the expanse of time we spent waiting; I knew it was a sunny afternoon, outside, but in the hospital it was constant night, artificial light showing with definition every speck of dust in front of my eyes, both perfection and imperfection brought forth with painful accuracy.

The elderly couple was told, eventually, that their family member was well and recuperating.

They walked out, still supporting each other, already discussing which favorite of their son to being for lunch, tomorrow.

It made me want to smile, only I couldn't, just yet.

The burning man kept getting more and more agitated. Phil, too, grew impatient – and out of sports papers to read. He tried the medical periodicals afterwards – avoiding all the fashion and gossip magazines – once, twice, and finally landing a winner. Still, he mostly frowned at the text and stared at the photos.

Edward's face turned my way quite often. I could see it in my peripheral vision. Maybe we'd made some sort of progress, maybe not, but it wasn't the right time. I couldn't deal with it then.

I hoped he understood.

I was getting exhausted quickly. After getting little sleep – next to none at all –my muscles were aching, every sitting or standing position a degree of discomfort. The whole thing was wearing me down.

I stopped drinking coffee sometime during hour five. Hour six was especially difficult, with Phil huffing and, tired of sitting, pacing around, like I had pretended not to do.

In another situation, he'd be friendly, trying to talk to Edward, engaging me in the conversation. Probably, about baseball.

I looked at him and saw what I had never allowed myself to see. That he truly loved my mother – unlike all the other boyfriends before him. The marriage hadn't been a whim, and he was her husband.

Yet another thing I'd judged unfairly.

Hour seven was sheer, paralyzing panic. All I could think was: _it's not supposed to last this long._

Keeping it reigned in was the worst – and I must have done a poor job of it, because Phil eventually excused himself to get us all tea from the cafeteria, with beverages five feet away.

Finally, Edward got a text – and even the burning man's head snapped up.

His eyes alight, he turned to me in glee:

"It's Carlisle: Renee made it, the surgery was a success."

A distorted cry erupted from my throat and I jumped up, all the mess and all the fear abandoning me in a staggering second, leaving me weak in the knees.

I was going to have more time. It wasn't over yet.

I was going to mend things. Work on them, work on changing – mostly myself.

I was so thankful for the chance.

I enveloped Edward in a fierce hug, gratitude sipping out in my tears.

"Thank you," I voiced, aloud. I wanted him to know.

His arms encased me as well, unexpectedly, and I breathed the scent of his skin. I listened to his soothing whispers in my ear, his voice velvet and rain, torture and beauty, hurting as much as it healed.

For one second, in the warmth of his arms, I put everything aside. Still high on relief and happiness, I let myself pretend, just for that one second, that all was right in my world – that he was mine.

That Edward loved me just as much as I'd loved him. Just as much as I loved him, still. Would always.

The second grew, morphed, and we were no longer sharing a moment of celebration. We were holding each other. A second later, and I still believed.

Standing by the door, Phil gasped.

Just like that, it was all broken, and we went back to the present. I rushed away from the hug, giving my stepfather the good news in a completely hospital-improper squeal of joy, so unlike me.

The look in his face was worth it.

And when I looked back to Edward, I saw real joy, and real pain.

I searched my spine for the snake later, as I waited for Carlisle to come out and tell me all about the procedure.

It was nowhere to be found.


	39. The Most Important Journey

**My wonderful readers, we have reached chapter 39! One more to go!**

**To all the reviewers that asked me about the ****snake in the spine**** I mentioned in the end of last chapter, please read the ****sixth paragraph**** once again. You'll find the explanation there.**

**I'm really happy to get this one out. As for the last one, one question for you all:**

**Do you want an epilogue as well, or merely the last chapter?**

**I promise to carefully consider your opinions! Read on, and enjoy ;)**

**Soundtrack: **_**James Morrison – Once When I Was Little / James Morrison – Last Goodbye / James Morrison – You Make it Real**_

My mother's surgery was a success, but it didn't go as smoothly as possible. There was hemorrhage, and there were graft ruptures, and a couple of close calls.

My heart shrunk to the size of a chestnut as I heard Carlisle describe it to me.

Still, Renee pulled through it, and I got to see her that night as she recovered, through a thick glass, Phil sniffing beside me.

I handed him tissues and put his mind at ease, as much as I possibly could.

Carlisle stayed for two more days, until it got impossible for him to push back his schedule. We had one last talk, and I made sure to thank him – and let him know I'd never thank him enough. He invited me to Chicago, if I ever wanted to scrub in on one of his surgeries.

In the airport, I finally summoned up the courage to ask him why he sought personal information about his patients, when it was so much easier to stay detached. He told me it wasn't his job to be detached – it was his job to help people. And, in the operating room, through the mess and the blood, it helped him to know little details about that individual, to care for that person that much more. Whomever was lying on the table, anesthetized, deserved that.

I thanked him again, and accompanied him as far as I could go.

Edward stayed in Phoenix.

The next days were a whirlwind of activity, as I readied the house to receive my mother. I got her a better mattress, new beddings, new towels and all the necessary medical supplies.

I also painted the rest of the walls in the living room, got rid of the plants, and disinfected most of the house with bleach. I was obsessing over the chance of infection, and wanted to lower the possibilities as much as possible.

Edward helped. At first, he dropped in timidly, asking me if there was anything he could do; I wanted to refuse, as he'd done so much already, and I knew he'd only stayed behind for me.

But, honestly, I wanted the help as much as I wanted him around.

So we talked a little of matters of no consequence as we painted, and cleaned. His inexperience and fascination with the little tasks amused me, and my spirits lifted, little by little, but there was still too much on my shoulders.

This all happened, of course, in between visiting with Renee. Edward got to meet her as well, and I suspected they connected over their creative tendencies.

Bringing my mom home was the cherry on top of the cake. Phil beamed the whole time, cutting her food into small pieces as she watched on, trying not to laugh too hard.

I stayed for a couple more days, but Dartmouth was weighing heavily on my mind, and even Alice was starting to sound worried on the phone. The second semester had already started – even if mostly guiding seminaries about the upcoming internship – and both mine and Edward's college life had been suspended for as long as they could.

With genuine sorrow, I parted with Renee and Phil, the promise of long phone calls hanging in the air.

For the first time in my life, I didn't enjoy my plane trip – twisting and turning, trying to catch some sleep. Emotional exhaustion, something I'd never quite believed in, now seemed perfectly possible.

We arrived in New Hampshire in the middle of the night. The airport terminal was quiet, halogene lights casting an eery shine that made the shadows under Edward's eyes – and probably my own – that much more pronounced.

"Are we going back… To where things were?" I heard him ask, his voice a ghost of itself.

I frowned. Of course not.

The man I saw in Phoenix was different than the one my mind conjured all throughout the weeks before. It wouldn't be fair of me to ignore all he'd done.

And I'd finally matured enough to be fair.

"No, I don't want that," I finally answered, knowing perfectly well that being fair was going to cost me. That being around him as a friend would hurt.

He gave me a faint smirk before his eyes locked on our luggage.

"For whatever is worth, I meant what I said, about not letting you go," he stated, startling me.

My traitorous heart ached a little, soared a little.

"What do you mean?" I croaked.

"Isn't it obvious I can't get over you? I…" he sighed, eyes away from mine when all I felt like doing was shout and get him to look me in the eye. "I won't get over you. I know you were it for me."

The pain in his words was evident, and, in a completely irrational moment, I hated myself for causing it.

A masochistic – or sadistic – part of me felt lighter.

"I didn't sleep with Jasper," I blurted out. "Ever. We never saw each other that way, and he wasn't lying, that morning. He really was just there for support."

_He's not you._

His eyes softened, as he turned my way again, but we said no more. I imagined he'd heard this from Alice too, but it wasn't the same as hearing it from me.

Edward gave me something, I gave something back. In some twisted way, things seemed more balanced this way.

We got a cab back to campus, fighting the chill in our light Phoenix-appropriate attire, and he offered to help my small bag but I declined, politely, with a smile, and wished him goodnight.

And I meant it.

I couldn't hate Edward Cullen. I didn't have it in me.

It would be so, so much easier. His best side killed me – and I would take cruelty any day over it, because it made it easier to stay away. Gave me a reason.

I still knew all about what he'd done to me – but no longer felt anger or resentment towards him for it. This made for a dangerous balance – as I wasn't known for keeping my reason around him.

I felt like I was fighting a unilateral war with an unresponsive nemesis.

That nemesis was probably myself.

I sighed, carrying my wheelie up the stairs with moderate difficulty, and reaching my door with no small measure of relief. I was planning on texting my mother, taking a shower, and crashing for eight to twelve hours, in that order.

There was a surprise waiting for me.

It was past four o'clock, so I wasn't expecting an energetic welcome back, but I hadn't been expecting the scenery before me either.

With exquisite tenderness, and an expression I dare say of happiness, Jasper was lying besides Alice, fully clothed and on top of all the beddings, probably freezing himself to death for love. Both of them were sound asleep, tangled up, probably seeking warmth and comfort.

I smiled, a real smile that I'd recently learned again, and set my bag by the door.

They were together. I'd known it before either of them cared to admit it – in their voices when speaking of each other, by the way there were always together in the afternoons when I called.

I got a blanket and spread it over the lover boy, snickering, before going through with my original plan.

When I brought that up, three days later, during kickboxing practice, I had the pleasure of seeing Mr. Whitlock blush.

"Ah, we don't do that," he apologized, deeply embarrassed, amusing me further. "It was just, we were waiting for you, and Alice asked me to stay. It was supposed to be just until you got home…"

"That's okay, Jas," I cackled, wiping away the sweat in my brow.

"How are things with… him?" Jasper asked, ever mindful of my reactions, leveling the field.

I shrugged and tried my best to come across as detached in my answer:

"We're civil. It's the least I owe him, but maybe we can actually be friends, in time. Talk more, and not just about class or the weather."

I sat Indian style in front of my friend, sweat still trickling down my back, my ponytail uncomfortably wet, taking long pulls from the water bottle, avoiding further interrogation.

I still had my doubts about the whole thing. About my ability of being friends with Edward Cullen.

"That's good to know."

He was trying to be supportive, I could tell; but he knew me too well to actually believe my words.

"Listen, I actually wanted to talk to you about something. Without Alice present."

That made Jasper pay attention.

"What is it?"

"Internship is coming up," I started, trying to approach the subject as smoothly as possible. "I got the application ready this morning. We don't all get to stay near – and I chose to apply for hospitals outside the area."

"Why?" he asked, confused.

"You two need your own space. I know you don't want to impose, and I appreciate it, but I don't want to be the one imposing either. You do need to get your own room," I stated, and Jas blushed again, a deeper red over his cheeks. "So, how about I leave, and you move in? It's a really nice dorm, no noisy neighbors, no scary Goths…"

"No, that's… No," Jasper fumbled with his words, a bit frantic. "I haven't even talked to Alice about something like that, and I can't kick you out of your own room."

"You're not," I smiled. "I'm kicking myself. If I stay in a hospital a bit farther away, I get to work with different people, and distance myself a bit," I added, knowing he'd understand why I needed the space. "It'll be easy to rent a room around the hospital, and, once I come back in September, I'll rent a single. No big deal, Jas."

He seemed unsure.

"I don't know. I don't like this, and I'm not sure Alice won't accuse me of throwing you out…"

"That's the beauty of it," I assured him. "It's all my idea, so it won't get traced back to you. Now, all you have to do is decide whether or not you want to do it," I threw at him, expecting hesitance.

Not that I found any.

"Of course I want to do it," he smiled, conspiratorially, and I smiled in victory.

I had never seen Alice as happy as she was then. And the small, casual gestures – like the way she ran her hand over his neck, not around his scars, but over them – caused me to shiver.

For the first time in what felt like a long time, I'd actually done something right.

The same afternoon, I got back to the Department – and cringed when I saw the pile of work waiting for me.

"Sorry about that," Jones apologized, seeing me enter, "we kind of learned to rely on you a lot."

"I'm the one who should be apologizing, Mrs. Jones…"

"Nonsense. You had no control over what happened, it was the right thing to do under the circumstances. Now, before you tackle that, sit with me for a little while. Tea?"

I smiled. "No, thank you."

"Well, it's a great conversation starter. I'll probably be drinking a lot of it over the following months. We're doing a teacher's interchange with a college in the UK, so I'll be in London until September. It's a bit harsh, being away from my grandchildren for so long, but it's a good opportunity to be a part of an investigative team."

My jaw dropped open.

"That's amazing, Mrs. Jones."

"Indeed," she cackled, seeing my enthusiasm. "Well, this is a bit off-protocol, but I was thinking of inviting you along. There's no reason why you can't do your internship there, though it wouldn't be that different from doing it here. Just a different set of experiences, I suppose."

I stared at the maternal woman in front of me, suddenly at a loss of words.

"You'd be a part of an ongoing investigation…" I stated, probably looking like I'd had a lobotomy, trying to wrap my mind around the proposal.

"Yes. Not you, though we'd be working in the same hospital. The main advantage is, with no other students there, you'll be free to choose a resident to shadow, and I might get you into some surgeries."

She winked. Jones actually winked, and it was faith and hope and childhood dreams winking at me all at once, my stomach wrapped up in a ball of nervousness.

"No need to give me the answer right away; we've still got another week before placements are finalized. But make sure to give me the answer before that, alright, dear?"

"Thank you, Mrs. Jones," I got out, my stomach hurting. I almost turned away to leave, but managed to get a grip on myself and sit to get some work done_._

Six months in London, no interns to compete against. The teacher's pet, the spoiled elite, with a shiny, golden VIP pass to surgeries most freshmen only dreamed of.

Six months in London.

I was happy to have talked with Jasper – it seemed, right then more than ever before, that I wouldn't be needing my room.

I was grabbing the opportunity with both hands, of course.

Something inside pulsed violently, and I shut my eyes, concentrating.

I tried thinking about it as I worked, but found that I couldn't. For some reason, I didn't share it with Alice when I got back home – discussing the terms of my moving out instead.

I didn't understand why I didn't tell her, just then. Later, I came to the conclusion I didn't want to upset her when she was obviously ecstatic – but that wasn't the truth.

Two, three, four days. I didn't give an answer, and Jones didn't press for it.

I couldn't say yes, but I couldn't possibly say no.

I was taking it, right?

Then why did it hurt to even face the possibility, really face it?

I refused not to take it, but I couldn't come around to taking it, either.

I had to make a decision, so I paced in my room, finding it oppressing. I needed to breathe. I opened my closet and my small bag fell out.

Suddenly, I knew of a place where I could think.

I went online for just long enough to get a map and got in the car, carefully maneuvering my way to the place I'd never visited, but felt haunted by.

It was just before twilight when I arrived. The scenery was absolutely beautiful – white birch trees and maples surrounding the mirror-like lake. The Goose Pond was absolutely undisturbed, reflecting the colors of the setting sun, as I went to sit by its rocky shore.

I wondered where the small cabin was – the one Edward rented for the both of us. The one we never got to enter.

I wondered for the first time where I'd be, right that second, if I'd never seen the flyer.

I really didn't know.

I circled my legs with my arms, resting my chin on my knees, as the wind picked up slightly.

Where would I be in six months, if I accepted?

Where would I be if I didn't?

I really didn't know that, either.

Old plans that I'd grown so attached to and new resolutions clashed. I wanted to go, but deep down I knew I really wanted a reason to stay, even if I'd ultimately go against it.

I wanted roots as deep as the trees that surrounded me. I wanted the depths of my soul to be as undisturbed as the beautiful expanse of water in front of me.

Hour after hour, I dwelled through shallow roots and murky water.

And then I made a decision.


	40. Last Chapter

**And here we are, the final chapter!**

**Don't worry, there will be an epilogue. It's been typed up, but I'll be tweaking it soon enough.**

**For the very last time, enjoy this chapter of Static…**

_**Soundtrack : Coldplay – The Scientist /Snow Patrol – You Could be happy/ Jason Mraz – Beautiful Mess/ Coldplay – Warning Sign**_

I sat there, by the lake, for what seemed like seconds. But looking at the starry sky I saw it had been hours. My decision had been made. What other could be possible?

I was going to take the internship.

Alice had Jasper, and I trust him to do a wonderful job keeping her safe; he loved her. They loved each other, and I could celebrate it with them always. I believed in them.

Charlie was just fine, and Renee was recuperating fast and well. Phil was there, to stay, and I now believed that too.

Edward was a friend. We probably needed some space anyways, so I wouldn't be turning my back on him. When I came back in six months, maybe he'd introduce me to his girlfriend. Maybe I'd be the kind of friend he'd ask to his wedding; that had Edward written all over it.

This was my chance. My chance to do something special, something very few people were invited to do, let alone during their first year in Med School. Jones trusted me. It seemed my future was just stretching on in front of me. _No static._ No more. I'd be free to spend eight to sixteen hours in the hospital every day, maybe even take a few years off to teach or write some manual.

I'd spend my days off swimming and going shopping with Alice. I'd buy her children nice gifts. Maybe I'd even manage the kind of courage that allowed me to call Edward from time to time.

But in the back of my mind, I knew it. I knew that wasn't going to happen. I sighed into the night air. I still had three years of college in front of me, and I'd go through them, but I wasn't staying close after that. I'd go somewhere far away, and make myself scarce until the phone stopped ringing, and the invitations ceased.

I needed to call him. I needed him to know, before I told anyone else. I needed to see the light in his eyes would still be there. I needed him to deny any connection we ever had, for him to prove that it hadn't been real. I was going to hurt him into it.

"Edward," I breathed into the phone when he picked up, sadness dripping from my voice.

I couldn't force myself to say anything else. This was the meeting that would end it. I knew it. I'd hurt him enough to be sure he wouldn't be wanting anything else to do with me, afterwards.

"Bella, where are you? I need to talk to you; can you come to the library? I'm on the steps, outside," he said, talking frantically.

"I'll be there, but It'll take a while," I croaked out. He'd done it for me.

I stood, wiping the moss off my jeans, realizing from the numbers on my cell phone it was now 2 a.m.; I'd been in my own head for hours, sitting still.

I went back to the car; checking my reflection in the rearview mirror, I saw dry streaks of tears on my face. How long had I cried? I couldn't say I was surprised. But I'd made my decision. I'd live with it.

My mind was quiet, now. That was a blessing. I needed all my control and calm to talk to Edward, to get him to understand. I wiped my face clean, and a sad pale girl looked back at me in the mirror.

I drove all the way back, and in less than forty minutes I was within the campus. As I left the car, I could feel every step, every spec of dirt under my shoes. In five minutes, I turned the corner to see the library.

There, in the middle of the steps, sitting down, was Edward. All around him the tall lamps lit his face and body in a heartbreaking way. I could only stare at him, attempting once more to take all of him in, and failing miserably. His hair swayed slightly with the wind, his beautiful features stunning me. I couldn't look away if I wanted to. His eyes held me there, in one piece, flickering with the lights from around and above and emotions I couldn't name.

I stood there, mere steps away. A few moments later, he stood up.

"I overheard a conversation in class. I know you've been invited to go to Europe for your internship."

So he knew. His voice never broke; his body showed no signs of nervousness of any kind and his face was serene. But his eyes… there were flames there. The same fire that burned in me, still. That would probably always burn me.

"Stay."

If I wasn't standing so close to him, and seen his mouth move, I wouldn't have caught it. His voice broke down completely, panic and longing showing through. This was it. I wanted to lower my eyes to the floor and just say it and be done with it.

But Edward resumed talking before I'd managed to say anything.

"If you go… then I won't be around you for 6 months. And if that happens, I know we'll never be close again, I just know it."

He was right.

"I will take being your friend, someone who supports you, anything really. I will take any place in your life you're willing to give me, any chance I can of seeing you and being by you. Anything. Just don't go."

I wanted to contradict him, be mad at him for even suggesting it, but again, no sound came out. I could tell he wasn't done getting all of it out of his chest, and I'd give him that. There was nothing else to give.

"I know it's a lot to ask of you, and that you've given up things for me before, things I didn't prove myself worthy of, but this is different. And you have to understand, so please hear me. That day, when we left the office and you chucked the folder in the trash, I was curious. I was sure you'd been working on something, and when I saw what it was and the proposal you made, I couldn't let that go to waste."

I'd never heard his attempt to explain before, and I wasn't even sure I'd want to hear it now, but, once again, I forced myself to hear. We needed to dot the I's, even if there was a bitter bite to it. So we'd say goodbye.

"So I took it and handed it to the teacher, because I knew you deserved the job, being generous as you've always been. I couldn't help but be in awe of the fact you gave up the whole thing so the choice was fair. And that made you the best of the both of us. Please, believe me. I cared so much about you then, as I do today, and I had no idea your name wasn't in it at all, or I would have said something when handing it over."

His revelation wasn't, at all, what I'd expected. I didn't even have time to process it.

"When I got the job, I was confused, and I didn't even understand the mistake I'd made. When Gaspard gave you that scolding in public – I thought he was disappointed at you for not having the courage to come forth and present it yourself. I never considered any other possibility." He paused then, before proceeding in a harsher tone. "And then I found out he'd mistaken the folder as my own. When I told my father about the job, he kept telling me how proud he was of me, and even though I'd heard it before, I couldn't help but think this was the first time he actually had something to be proud of. But I didn't feel I deserved any of it, and it ate me up."

His words cut new gashes through me, but in a different way. So many feelings surfaced, I was having a hard time keeping up with it all.

"I know that doesn't justify what I did, I know that. I lived with it haunting me, but I was too selfish and too much of a coward. And it wasn't even my father's respect or the stupid job I was afraid of losing, but _you_. I was afraid you wouldn't believe my explanation and that you'd leave me for it."

That had been exactly what I did, but maybe I wouldn't have done so if he'd told me right away. At the moment, everything was unclear to me. I just kept listening to Edward, hoping to keep my sanity intact.

"So I kept the wretched job. I canceled the lecture, but Gaspard went behind my back and rescheduled it. I didn't even know until you came to me with the flyer in your hand."

Just the mention of that day made my throat feel tight. But he deserved to have his say. I knew him well enough to, even through the jumbled mess of thoughts, feelings and doubts, believe what he was telling me.

"I know this changes nothing. I know how low you think of me, and I've accepted it as something I deserve. But please, don't punish me in that way. Not being able to touch you or hold you is breaking me apart, and I will gladly keep on withstanding it, if you'll only stay near.

Just please, acknowledge that, even if I'm not worthy, you'd want this too. Just give me this, and I'll give you anything you want." He paused then, even if for just two seconds, before adding: "I'm leaving medical school in the end of the this semester."

His revelation brought a new weight to my shoulders, and tears started welling down my face, my breaths coming out shorter.

"I don't want to become an M.D., and I've figured out that lying, be it to yourself or others, only leads to pain and heartbreak. I'm done with lying. And I know that lying today would probably be the best and the easiest but I don't feel that it is."

I wished he'd lie. I wish he'd tell me we'd meet one day for coffee, maybe in ten years. Anything but the difficult, gut wrenching truth.

"And if that ruins everything, then so be it; I'm willing to take that chance. I just have to get it out of me, make it more than just words swimming in my head for hours on end, while your image haunts my dreams and days and any sound but your voice hurts my ears."

My breathing stopped all together. Two very different parts of me, as always, were manifesting themselves.

_Say it._

_Please, don't._

"_I love you._ I've been in love with you from the first time I saw you that morning in class and noticed how intriguing you were. And I know that you're unwilling to believe that, but how can you deny it when you've felt it? You know it wasn't just hormones and illusions, you know this.

It's the truth. And I've decided to live my truth, painful as it is.

"So just stay. I know you'll find the best internship here, and be amazing at it. All I ask is to be the one who hears about your stories, who asks you out for coffee and cheers you up after a crappy day.

"I know what I'm asking, but I'm giving myself in return. I'm giving _me_, the man, egotistical, coward, lonely and flawed. The man that loves you more than any other ever will.

"Please, stay."

I stood, mere steps away from the man I still loved, all of his words weighing on me. And I couldn't help myself; when did I ever, when it came to Edward?

I imagined it. For a few fleeting seconds, I could see it; us moving in together over the summer.

Being at Edward's wedding, not as a witness of his union with a stunning woman, but me in the white dress.

For just a moment, I could hear the vows over the rustling wind.

I could see him smiling to my rounded belly, expecting his child.

Of all things I'd ever allowed myself to imagine for my future, those insignificant seconds showed me the happiest of them all.

I was through with imagining.

And suddenly, everything else was just static.

Edward was silent, expecting my answer. I wiped away my tears, so I could see him more clearly when the words finally left my mouth.

"I'll stay."

The torn expression he wore for the last weeks, as permanently as a scar, lifted and healed. His green eyes were now truly shimmering, with unshed tears and joy.

"Thank you", he breathed, knowing he'd been, at least to an extent, forgiven. He tore away his eyes, then, and looked down at his shoes, wearing a shadow of that same sad look.

"You're not actually going to believe I stayed just to allow our friendship?"

His head snapped up, and his face fell further, looking around to the scenery of our first night just hanging around together, and also of our first kiss. When he didn't answer, I couldn't leave him hanging anymore. And I couldn't wait anymore either.

Stepping forward, I slowly reached up for his face, reveling in the softness and warmth of his skin. The same skin I'd been longing for. I barely registered the look in his eyes – surprise, relief and _love_ - before I crushed my lips to his, the familiar tingle of a shiver running through me. Not a second after, Edward reacted, deepening the kiss and moaning softly into my mouth, whispering sweet nothings when we briefly paused to breathe.

Thunders gashed through the sky, showing its purplish hue through the black, but we barely registered it.

All at once, we tried to consume – to possess each other. The smell, the skin, was so familiar, so pleasurable to touch, to experience, and it all had been denied for far too long.

The storm was evolving above us, and we finally realized it was for the best to leave.

Running, hand in hand, – as if chased by rabid wolves, the ghosts of our past – we reached his dorm room, and I fumbled to unlock the door, using my old key that I'd intended to get back to Edward.

A part of me - the reason, the logic - wanted to sit down and talk, and I knew this to be necessary.

But, right then, it seemed perfectly fine to delay it.

We undressed each other much too quickly to put real thought into it – and I heard clothes being ripped, without being able to distinguish which one of us was responsible. I suspected both.

At some point, one of us kicked the door shut.

But all that really mattered was the cinnamon and sugar of his lips dulling my senses and clouding my brain, the naked skin finally touching its mate, soft yet rougher, firmer, _male._

_My Edward_. Finally I believed this, and it was glorious to know that, for the first time, he was just as exposed as me. Just as in love. Just as crazy.

I was lowered onto the soft bed I knew so well, in an elegant albeit quick motion, and sighed and Edward knelt over me, hovering, dropping sloppy, wet kisses on my skin.

More thunders roared, closer this time.

We continued to mumble, incoherent fragments that only the other understood – and his skin moving against mine was becoming much too much to bear.

I needed, more than ever, to feel connected to Edward, and as he finally gave in, with as much urgency as mine, my back arched off the bed, my hands grasping at his neck, our moans piercing the air, louder.

The most wonderful torture lied in the change of paces – either torturously slow, loving, completely encompassing, or nearly savage exploitation of each other's body.

The final, thunderous shudder of our bodies came timed with the sky outside – and light rain hit the windows, muffling our last whimpers.

I threaded one of my hands in Edward's reddish hair, kissing and nuzzling his neck. He drew the blankets over us and adjusted the pillows, making it more comfortable to accommodate my limp body.

When he finished, we laid in each other's arms, my knee draped over his stomach, my head over his shoulder.

My place in the world.

Contentment couldn't define it – only absolute bliss. I could feel it radiating off of him in waves, and as he kissed my hand, my elbow, my naked shoulder.

And I realized it was time to talk. We couldn't just leave it for tomorrow morning anymore.

"Edward, why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you explain… that it was a misunderstanding? You let me believe you'd stolen my work."

He sighed, and pulled the blankets tighter around me, wrapping me in a cocoon of soft cotton and skin.

"I wanted to. More than once, I wanted to explain it to you, badly. I would've told you everything, too, the day after… But then Jasper was there, and it all went to hell. Do you have any idea, of how it felt, of how… wrong it felt to see him protecting you, rightfully, from getting hurt, and realizing I was the one you needed protection from?"

His voice showed the pain that'd caused him, and I kissed him, long and hard, my arms and legs holding him tighter.

The physical counteracting the words.

"And then, it was Phoenix, and your mother was sick. It wouldn't be right to bring it up then, it wasn't the time. But I was hopeful that I might get my chance. That, in time, you'd listen to me," he continued.

"That's why it was so important for you that we stayed friends," I voiced, and felt his head bobbing in confirmation. Suddenly, a thought occurred to me: "Wait a minute, Alice knew. How was she able to keep this from me?"

Edward grimaced.

"I got the sharper end of that stick, let me tell you. She just about killed me, trying to get me to talk to you, but I kept telling her it was for the best that I stayed away… That you deserved better."

"What? Edward, that's the… craziest thing I can think of," I whispered, and he kissed my tangled hair. "You should have told me. You should have told me from the start – when you realized Gaspard had taken the folder as your own."

"You wouldn't have stayed with me."

I pushed myself back, looking into his green eyes, hurt and disbelief making me angry.

"It's true," he defended, his green eyes wide. "It was so, so hard to get you to trust me, to see me as something positive in your life, and I knew perfectly well that, at the slightest hint of trouble, you'd give up on us. I couldn't take that risk."

"That's not fair," I argued. "You never gave me the opportunity of telling you… of telling you exactly how much I cared. Of showing it. Which I believe I just did."

He smiled.

"You did. I never believed… I knew I had to beg for you to stay, but I never actually expected…"

"That's right," I scolded. "You never expected me to choose you over anything else. Edward, give me some credit, give_ us_ some credit. You can't make that decision on your own."

His smile morphed into something impossibly sweeter.

"You're right. I'm so sorry, Bella."

We sank back into another, and sleep was just creeping around me, a thick, heavy blanket, almost taking control.

"I'm sorry too. For being so damn difficult, it could've saved so much trouble…"

Edward actually cackled.

"You're not difficult," he drawled, sleep creeping in on him too. "How did we get something so simple so wrong?"

"Simple. We thought about it."

We both shared a spirited laugh at my dry humor, and the tingling warmth sleep provided started taking over my limbs.

"It'll be different, now. I know the sacrifice you're making… But I'll stay in Dartmouth as well, anything and everything it takes. I'm not taking any risks."

His words were a cold wisp of wind on my face, and sleep crept back to its cave, startling awareness setting in.

Suddenly, it all felt very wrong.

_What?_

Edward didn't want to become and M.D.; he didn't belong in Dartmouth, stuffed away in classes, among books and people that meant nothing to him. And I wouldn't be the cause for that.

And I could hear it in his voice – the strain it caused him, knowing he was the sole reason I was staying as well.

It shouldn't be an either or, but it always was.

"Edward, you're not staying in Dartmouth."

My statement cut right through the light mood and the room, and I felt Edward stiffen beside me.

"Bella…"

"No. You're a pianist, a musician. A brilliant man that deserves to be happy about what he does. And yes, you're right, this is simple, didn't you hear me?" I pushed myself up to a seating position, pulling the sheets along to cover my bare body. "We need to trust ourselves, to trust what we have, that much more than we did, for this to work. I love you," I vowed, "but being in love isn't sacrificing everything else to stay together. It's about staying together in spite of everything else. Of resisting every hurdle, enduring every battle life throws at us. Fight with me. But fight for what you want. It's not an either or. It can't be."

His green eyes smiled up at mine, and I knew then he believed me, if never before.

"It's not an either or," my boyfriend agreed, sitting up as well and pulling my back against his chest, inhaling the smell of my skin. "You're going to London," he stated, and I hesitated.

"If staying is what it takes to prove to you…" I started, but he cut me off.

"No. No, it's not. It's different now, everything's different now. I'm not letting you walk away, I'm… Staying behind to sort things out. After all," he gestured towards the room around us, "we need a new wardrobe… maybe a bigger desk."

I smiled so hard it hurt. Six months in London, and then I'd come back to Edward. Not an either or.

"Yes, definitely," I croaked, teary-eyed. "And maybe a bookshelf as well. We'll probably have enough space for that, once we rent an apartment."

"An apartment?" he asked, his chin on my shoulder and a crooked, amused smile on his lips.

"Well, that baby grand piano Carlisle told me about won't fit in here…"

We exchanged happy smiles and discussed silly plans until sleep took us, blissfully exhausted.

There was so much ahead of us – the great unknown. The rest of our college lives and what lay beyond those, far into the future.

I knew he could pursue anything he wanted, and I'd support him always.

I knew I could count on the same on his part.

I knew his shoulder would be my pillow every night we spent together. I knew I'd miss it dearly every night we didn't.

I also knew that would make the reunion that much sweeter.

My life changed a lot over the course of those six months – and I knew I'd never be the same. My priorities, the very cornerstones of my personality, were forever shaken and questioned.

And the static?

I found the best solution was to simply be myself.


	41. Epilogue

_**For the very last time, enjoy…**_

_Seven years later, to the day_

I sigh onto the papers in front of me, wishing a strong breath was all it took to blow them away. This is the part of my work I honestly don't enjoy.

And, to boot, I've been lost in memories for the best part of the day.

I finish the charts under the bright hospital light and get my things sorted to leave, rubbing my sore neck.

"Can you work on these? There's a rush on it…"

The nurse prattles on, and, after a fourteen hour shift, I make an effort not to cry or commit an act of violence; either one would do. I take a look at the time instead, and peace washes over me.

"I've been off the clock for nearly an hour. Let the next shift take care of it."

"But…"

"I'll see you tomorrow," I cut, successfully ending the conversation. I smile, shamelessly enjoying my ability to say 'no', and turn to check my Inbox one last time.

One new e-mail awaits me, and the photos make me smile. Lizzie is a wonderful child, with Rosalie's grace and hair, Emmett's playfulness and dimples. I need to remember to clear up the weekend of her christening, or Rosie will shoot me on sight.

I get the notes I want to pass on to the next shift on the table, organized and on sight, and call it a day.

It always feels strange wearing my street clothes as I'm leaving the Pediatric Surgery ward, but I have to remind myself that the children are safe and being cared for.

I never regretted my choice of specialty. When the time came, I knew I had to listen to Carlisle's good advice in Phoenix – and pursue something that touched me, instead of trying and stay detached.

The job was hard, specially the tough cases that didn't allow for much range of action. Keeping the families hopeful while telling them the truth was challenging. Time and time again, I was forced to accept that the reality of what we were doing came with its failures. Sometimes, not all the medicine in the world could suffice.

My windy city embraces me as I leave the hospital; the street lights, already on, mutely try to outshine the setting sun peeking between the tall buildings.

I walk all the way back, even though there's no traffic, just lazily enjoying the scenery, even as tired as I am.

My apartment is high up, and exhaustion creeps on me as I enter the complex through the glass doors and enter the elevator. I very nearly yawn, but shake it off immediately.

I'd promised Jasper I'd be there tonight to support him, so there was no way I could skip this dinner.

I enter the silent, dark house, and sigh, saddened. I hate it.

I hate coming home to an empty place, filled with furniture and devoid of life.

I search for the magazines I subscribed, and remembered to have left on top of the kitchen counter.

They're gone. I frown.

The bread crumbs, traces of my early breakfast, are gone too, and the floor was mopped.

Alice.

I smile to myself as I roam the house. As I've come to expect, there's a dress – my own best friend's creation – hanging on the bathroom door, waiting for me. It's discreet, soft and romantic. I approve. As I examine her masterpiece more closely, I come to the conclusion that I adore it.

It saddens me to see her talent go to waste. Alice is still struggling to break her way into the Design world – a tough industry – even if her current job pleases her. Event planning suits her perfectly, and she works with none other than Esme Cullen.

I'm glad that Jasper found a teaching job in Chicago, which keeps us close. I honestly don't know what I'd do without the both of them in proximity.

It's too early to start getting ready, and, after such a long shift, my cushy bed extends an invitation I can't deny.

Changing into my pajamas, I sink in bed and turn off the lights, promising myself it would just be one hours. Two, tops.

Silence and darkness envelops me, as the shutters are drawn, and sleep claims my body.

I float back to consciousness, not quite making it, at the sound of music. I turn and twist in bed, smiling at the beautiful sound originated in the living room.

The carpet muffles the sound of footsteps heading my way, and I blink my way back to the world of the living, yearning to see.

Edward's face greets me, with a smile, as he sits by my side in bed, and I tug on him, playfully, getting him to lie beside me.

"Is this new?" I ask, reaching for a kiss he delivers. A few more notes fill the air, and I add: "It's yours."

"Yes," he smiles, in confirmation. "I've been working on it for a while. Do you like it?"

"It's amazing," I reply, letting the sound lull me.

"Ah, you sleepyhead," he jokes, but moves to snuggle against me. "How was your day?"

"Long," I sigh. "And probably not as interesting as having your own production company. Mostly charts, minor surgery."

He smiles.

"What about _his _day?" he asks, moving to uncover my belly and laying wet kisses round my bellybutton. I squirm to his touch, ticklish, but smile in victory.

He said 'his'.

In spite of my husband's assurance that his feelings towards our child were in no way related to its sex, my absolute confidence that it was, indeed, a boy, was slowly winning him over.

"He was very nice to his mother, letting me keep my breakfast down and everything," I smile, and Edward cups the skin with his hand, trying to feel some sort of movement, even if I keep telling him three months is much too soon.

And then I get impatient.

Because I can't wait to see him, to see just how beautiful he'll be. I wish he's just like Edward more than anything in the world, but secretly revel in the knowledge that there will be a little bit on me in there, too. That we'll be forever mingled in the highest form of love, the gift of life.

My husband's eyes flick back to mine, and I pull him up for a kiss.

He draws the cover over us, and I chuckle.

"Let's stay in," he suggests, but I shake my head, still chuckling.

"We can't do that. Poor Jasper, his nerves are frazzled as it is, with the proposal tonight. We need to be there."

My actions contradict my words, and I welcome him, weaving my hand through his hair. Edward just sighs, and then his smirk and mischievous glint worry me.

"Where are you…" I start, as he gets up.

"I'm drawing us a bath," he explains.

"Foot-rub?" I ask, hopeful, and he sticks his head out of the master bath. The glint is still there.

"It's a start."

I chuckle and hear the water cascading into our tub, the sound mingling with the piano still filtering through the air.

Seven years later, and we made it.

Edward did leave medical school after I went to London, but stayed in New Hampshire. He pursued higher education in Music, and the success was tremendous. He was brilliant and happy about what he did.

Walking our separate paths together was a challenge, and we did spend some time away from each other, even after London – as Edward often flew to Germany for a couple of months at a time, to study.

Turning down the offer to become a concert pianist, he decided to start his own production company instead, and we finally settled down in Chicago, my adoptive city. I fell in love with it during the first trip we did together.

We didn't make the same mistakes, but new ones. Even if, at the end of the day, we never forgot about what was really important.

I hear him calling me and step out of the bed, gingerly making my way to the lit bathroom, shedding my pajamas on the way.

We sink into the warm water, and I warn my husband about the little time we have. He ignores that reality, kissing me instead.

_Yes_, I think to myself_. We did make it this far, and this is just the beginning_.

**Acknowledgements**

**Thank you for you for waiting for the updates, for the reviews you left – either praise or critique –, for the trust you showed, for making it this far with me.**

**Thank you, readers.**


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